Come Hell or High Water
by lizandletdie
Summary: The curse is broken and Regina seems beaten, but it's not yet smooth sailing for Belle and Rumpelstiltskin as they attempt to navigate their fractured relationship in the midst of the search for Baelfire and the intrigue that always plagues Storybrooke. Direct sequel to Any Port in a Storm, season 2 AU.
1. Not Beyond Repair

_Storybrooke, 1995_

Lacey French was kind of surprised at how much she didn't mind cleaning houses. She wasn't by nature a hard worker. At least that's what everyone had always said, anyway – or at least since high school She hadn't really seen much of a point in exerting herself for a mile run first thing in the morning, and it had just gone downhill from there. Why would you want to run around in circles around a gym? Just because some old guy who wore shorts for a living was yelling at you? That was more Lacey's definition of a war crime than a productive use of her time, so she'd skipped gym to hang out under the bleachers with the older kids and that's how she'd tasted her first cigarette.

Later, after her mum had died, she'd started applying this philosophy of 'why should I?' to other areas of her schooling, and Lacey French went from being bright with a bit of promise to lazy and on a bad road. It wasn't that she couldn't work if she didn't want to, but somehow learning how to calculate the area of a triangle hadn't seemed as important in a world where a woman could be there with you one minute and gone the next. She'd started cutting more classes, spending time out behind the auto tech building with the older guys, dragging Ruby along when they asked her to bring a friend. Both girls had learned to kiss back there (either with the boys or each other) and how to drink just enough vodka from a shared bottle to make everything hurt a little less but not enough that you'd be stumbling home drunk off your ass.

No, work didn't come naturally to Lacey, and she'd raised avoiding it to an art form. So of course, here she was on her hands and knees scrubbing Gold's floor and not actually minding it. The scrubbing wasn't really something she did a lot, usually a quick mop was plenty to clean up the light dirt that the man managed to track into his kitchen. It was spring, though, and he'd paid extra to have her come in for overtime to spend an entire Saturday taking the whole damn place apart and cleaning it top to bottom. She hated losing some of her weekend to cleaning up after him, but when her boss had told her how much extra he would actually be paying her to come in saying no had ceased to be an option. There would be an extra zero in her paycheck this week, on top of whatever he decided to tip her, and Gold was a damn good tipper.

She didn't really get that man at all. He was paying way more than market value to get her to come spend an entire day at his house. He could have hired a hooker for _way_ less than what he was paying her. Hell, no matter what she'd told him about being able to do better than him if she did decide become a prostitute, she'd have been tempted to take him up on the offer if he'd made it.

Ruby thought Gold had a thing for Lacey, but the idea of Mr. Gold the landlord having a thing for anybody was pretty far fetched in general. Lacey had a hard time thinking about him wearing anything less than a three piece suit. If he'd ever had sex before, she was sure he must have left all his clothes on and just unzipped.

"How's the grout looking?" Gold's voice broke into her thoughts.

She sat up as quick as she could and spun around, narrowly avoiding spilling sudsy water everywhere. It was amazing how many things that man could find to do in whatever room she happened to be in. Maybe he just happened to be a fetishist who really liked to watch women clean his home?

"The grout is fine," she replied. "Although frankly if you're that worried about it maybe you should get wood in here. Or something besides tile, anyway. It's always going to be impossible to keep it clean."

"Or maybe I should just keep paying you," he replied with a shrug and a grin. "The windows look very good, though. Almost can't tell they're there."

"They do, don't they?" she replied with a smug self-satisfaction. "And by May you'll have the pile of bird carcasses on the porch to prove it."

"Oh good," he said. "That should help maintain my fearsome reputation."

"Pawnbroker, landlord, bird murderer?"

"Everybody needs a hobby," he replied lightly. "Is this your last room for the downstairs?"

"Yeah," she said, leaning back and stretching her spine. "So you might want to go hide whatever you've got in your bedroom you don't want me to see, I'll be in there next."

Gold just chuckled and walked out, presumably not to flush a bag of cocaine down the toilet or anything like that. Yeah, Lacey was pretty surprised at how much she didn't mind cleaning, but she was _really_ fucking surprised how much she actually enjoyed spending time with Mr. Gold.

 _Storybrooke, 2011_

Rumpelstiltskin hadn't really slept at all after his conversation with Belle the previous night. Even though she'd said she wanted to try and raise the baby together, there had been a part of him that was just waiting for her to come knock on his bedroom door and say she'd changed her mind and wanted him gone. The knock had never come, and the only noise he'd heard after he retreated to the guest bedroom he'd moved into after Emma's arrival had been a soft padding between the linen closet and the room where she'd lost her virginity. At least someone was finally changing those damn sheets.

As soon as it seemed like a reasonable hour to be awake, he'd quietly made his way downstairs to cook breakfast. This, at least, was something constructive he could do to maybe stay on her good side and to perhaps start the long road of apologizing for how big a fool he'd been. Rumpelstiltskin was a man who prided himself on being clever, and yet he'd believed Regina unconditionally when she'd said Belle had left. He wasn't sure if he hoped the Hatter had succeeded or not, because while it would be rather delightful to take his own vengeance, he had more important things to focus on right now besides Regina. Bae, Belle, and the baby – those three people had to be his priority. Bae, Belle, and the baby.

Belle wasn't as quiet now as she used to be, what with the pregnancy, and he heard her coming down the stairs. He turned to greet her when she came into the kitchen, but he hadn't been prepared for how she still took his breath away. It was strange, because Gold had seen Lacey first thing in the morning thousands of times, but he didn't remember Lacey ever being as beautiful as Belle. She had on a simple cotton maternity dress, the sort with a high waistline and a low neck. He didn't remember when Lacey had bought this one, but he did vaguely remember her griping about how hard it had been to find anything that looked good on her in maternity stores. She'd been right, this one was beautiful on Belle but it never would have suited Lacey at all. Belle had put her hair in a loose braid and hadn't bothered with shoes yet. She was smiling softly at him from the doorway and he forgot how to breathe for a minute.

"Hey," she said after a little bit. "Something smells good."

"Yes," he replied instantly, returning to his pan. "I thought you might be hungry."

"I am," she said as he heard her pulling one of the stools at the breakfast bar out and sitting on it. "How long have you been awake?"

"I didn't sleep much," he admitted. "I had a lot on my mind."

"Me too," she said as he plated up the eggs and bacon he'd prepared and put a kettle onto the stove.

The conversation was awkward, small talk between two people who should have been beyond that by now. Rumpelstiltskin was terrified to bring up anything of substance for fear of reminding Belle of all the ways he'd failed her, and he wasn't sure what her reason for avoiding those same topics with him was. It was civil, at least. She'd promised to want him in their daughter's life and to try to be friendly with him, and he'd accepted readily because it had been more than he'd hoped for and certainly more than he'd had from Milah. There was a part of him, though, that was desperate for something more – something close to the life they'd had before or even close to the life that Lacey and Gold had lived. He didn't think Belle would be as easily impressed as her alter-ego, though, no matter how much easier that would have made his life.

"Would you like some tea?" he asked as he set a plate down for her.

"Yes, please," she said almost reflexively as she took up her fork and tasted her food. "This is really good. I didn't know you cooked."

"I can keep you from starving, at least," he demurred, though it was certainly true that he was a better cook than she'd ever been. "And anyway, it's just eggs."

He set a mug of tea on the table in front of her before taking a seat across from her. It was an odd sense of deja vu to sit here with her and discuss nothing and everything at the same time over a plate of simple food. Lacey had cooked for Gold the morning after they slept together, he remembered. He'd been completely lost as to how to deal with her then, too, and something told him this meal wouldn't end on nearly so promising a note.

"So," she said. "What are we doing today?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not an idiot, Rumple," she replied with a shrug. "I know you still have to go find your son and you brought magic here for a reason."

She was going to help him, he dimly realized.

"You don't have to help," he said. "I certainly don't expect you to do anything for me you don't want to."

"It's not like I have a lot else to do besides gestate a human being," she said simply. "And I can do that and help you at the same time. He's your son and my baby's brother. We're a family now, no matter how that happened."

Even after everything he'd done to her, she'd decided to help him find Baelfire without even knowing the boy's name.

"Alright," he replied, trying hard to swallow past the lump in his throat. "I don't have much of a plan yet, though."

"We can work on it together," she offered. "I'm good at research."

"I'm sure," he said, looking down into his tea as though that held answers for the questions he wasn't quite up to asking. "His name is Baelfire, by the way."

"Baelfire," Belle said slowly like she was testing how the name felt. "That's a nice name."

He was about to agree when the doorbell rang, followed by a pounding. Belle jumped down off her stool before he could stop her and was well on her way to the door before his brain managed to catch up with what was going on. He made it to the living room just in time to see her checking the peephole before opening the door cautiously.

"Can I help you?" she asked, paying no attention as he came up behind her.

"I'm looking for Rumpelstiltskin," a voice he recognized as belonging to Prince Charming said. "Is he here?"

"He is," Belle said with a little nod. "And who are you?"

"Ah, Charming," Rumpelstilskin said, moving slightly in front of Belle as he addressed the other man. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"What do you know about portals?" the prince demanded.

"More than you, certainly," Rumpelstiltskin replied. "Care to elaborate?"

Charming rolled his eyes.

"Somehow," the other man began, glaring all the while. "The Mad Hatter acquired a wraith and tried to sic it on Regina."

Belle gave a little snort from behind him, and Rumpelstiltskin himself was hard pressed to care.

"And what does that have to do with me?"

"We tried to open a portal and send it to an empty realm," Charming replied. "Emma and Snow fell through."

"And Regina?" Rumpelstiltskin asked.

"She's fine," Charming said with just a hint of bitterness seeping in. "We managed to banish the wraith."

"That's a pity," Rumpelstiltskin replied. "You sacrificed your wife and child to save the queen."

Charming bristled at that, but before he could say anything Belle had moved forward and put her hand on Rumpelstiltskin's arm.

"What do you _need,_ Prince James?" she said calmly.

"I was hoping your..." he gestured at Rumpelstiltskin in confusion as he looked at Belle. "I was hoping Rumpelstiltskin would have some idea of how to open a portal."

"I'm afraid that was never my area of expertise," Rumpelstiltskin replied. "I used Jefferson for all my realm jumping needs. Have you tried asking him?"

"He says he can't fix it," Charming said. "Something about the hat not working."

"Well, then there's your answer," Rumpelstiltskin stepped back and prepared to shut the door. "Do give my condolences to young Henry."

Charming slammed his hand on the door and stepped forward to prevent his closing it.

"You wouldn't happen to know how the Hatter got a wraith, would you?"

"What are you implying, dearie?" Rumpelstiltskin said darkly. "You already have a powerful enemy in Regina, and so far you've been privileged to be in my good graces."

"Are you _threatening_ me?"

"Not at all," Rumpelstiltskin replied, glancing toward Belle. "I am, however, the only one who can keep Regina in check and – lucky you – she's given me an excellent reason to want her power limited. Unless you'd prefer to distract me from that course of action so I can go on a wild goose chase with you then I suggest you go back and talk to the Hatter and leave me to keep your precious town safe."

Charming glared (well, as much as he seemed capable of glaring) at Rumpelstiltskin, but he eventually nodded and turned towards Belle.

"Let me know if you ever need any help," he said as he stepped out of the doorway. "I'll be at the sheriff's station."

Rumpelstiltskin shut the door and turned to walk back towards the kitchen. It took him a few moments before he realized Belle wasn't following him. He turned back and she was standing leaning against the door with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Belle?"

"I'm fine," she said softly, but he could hear the tears in her voice.

"What's wrong?"

"Henry Mills lost his mother," she replied before breaking out in big choking sobs. "That poor boy."

"It'll be fine," he replied as soothingly as he could, going back to her and stopping just short of hugging her. "They're back in the Enchanted Forest."

"But how are they going to get back?" she said with a sniffle. "There's no way to travel between the realms."

She was still sobbing and he felt so helpless to make her stop.

"I'm sure they'll figure something out," he said as soothingly as he could. "Emma's the savior, after all, and there's a magical ability in that. If anyone can come back, it's her."

Belle nodded hopefully, tears still staining her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she said, swiping at her eyes. "I'm just really emotional about this sort of thing right now."

"Right, of course," he replied, feeling like an idiot. Of course she was emotional about parents right now, he'd been stupid not to anticipate it. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No," she murmured. "I'll be okay."

He felt like such a failure. He should know how to help her through this, but he had no ideas. He'd missed Milah's pregnancy entirely and been avoiding Lacey like the plague until the last few weeks. He wasn't even sure if Belle would want to be comforted. He was in over his head, and he had no idea if he'd even find his feet again.

Bae, Belle, the baby, he reminded himself. He couldn't do anything for Bae yet, but Belle and the baby were right here.


	2. Torn

_Storybrooke, 1997_

The shop was full of atlases to the point of bursting. Gold couldn't ever quite figure out where they'd all come from, but somehow he had more atlases in his shop than there were anywhere else in the town (and probably the state). If they'd all been antiques, he could have probably blamed it on people in Storybrooke being anxious to be anyplace else, but it was a hodgepodge of vintage and new books.

He didn't remember ever ordering any of them, but then he also didn't like thinking about it too hard. Surely there was some reason for him to have those books, wasn't there?

 _Storybrooke, 2011_

If Belle were going to be honest with Rumpelstiltskin – which she certainly was not, just yet – then she'd have had to admit she wasn't just upset for Henry Mills losing his mother. She hated herself a little bit for the role she'd played in the attack on Regina that had caused all this. She hadn't pulled the trigger (Jefferson had) or even handed him the loaded gun (Rumple had), but she had known what would happen and she hadn't cared. Rumple had as much as told her that there would be an attempt on the queen in the same breath he'd told her that he had murdered a man in and she simply hadn't cared. Belle had been happy to know that she was safe and that her baby was safe, and now two innocent women had been hurt because of it.

Belle was sad for Henry, but she was also terrified that she'd lost herself somehow in all of this. She wanted to run. She wanted to pack her bags (Lacey's bags?) and get in the car that she'd only rarely ever driven in and go as far away from all of this as possible. But she owed it to her daughter to try to keep Rumple in her life as long as possible, and anyway she had nowhere else to go. Her father would take her in, but he still thought Rumple had cursed her and what kind of a life would her baby have if they were dependent on a man who viewed Belle as a victim and her child as a product of a rape?

No, she couldn't go back to her father even if she'd wanted to. Her safest place was with Rumpelstiltskin. She didn't even really want to be home alone right now, just in case someone came for her. Belle hated being so afraid all the time. She'd never been afraid before, but then nothing truly horrible had ever happened to her before. Well, no – her mother had been killed by ogres, but that had been an invasion to their home that Belle had no real memory of. Belle had never been a victim herself.

Now, though, she was afraid. She was afraid Regina would get out and come back for her to use their baby against Rumple, she was afraid Nottingham would try to come back for her, she was afraid her father would try to steal her away in a misguided attempt to 'save' her. The only one she wasn't afraid of anymore was Sir Guy, because she knew that Rumple had killed him, and she hated herself a little for being happy about it.

With all the threats around, she was a little surprised Rumple even wanted to leave the house, but he'd apparently been stockpiling his research about this new world in his shop and he needed to retrieve some things to help him find his son. She didn't think he was any more comfortable with her being alone in the house than she was - and besides she had developed an odd dependency on Granny's for cheeseburgers and basically had to eat one on a daily basis or she was pretty sure she'd be forced to murder someone herself - and so they had gone first to the diner for takeout and then retreated to the pawn shop to eat and gather his belongings.

It shouldn't have been surprising to encounter one of Lacey's flings around town, but it had still taken Belle by surprise to encounter the random mechanic whose name she couldn't quite place in line at the diner. Everyone was out after the wraith attack and in a borderline panic over the return of magic, and Belle and Rumple had been given a wide berth. It had still been a distressing encounter, though, as he tried to pretend not to see her and she wondered if it was just her company or if he remembered the same things she did.

"Are you okay?" Rumple asked her as he flipped the sign on the pawn shop door to closed and triple checked the locks. "You seemed a little jumpy at the diner."

She had truly hoped he hadn't noticed that, but since when did he miss a damn thing when it didn't involve her developing feelings for him?

"I'm fine," she said. "I just...recognized someone there. That's all."

"Who?" he replied, his voice suddenly filled with a dangerous suspicion and she could hear the unspoken _is it someone I need to protect you from?_

She shouldn't like that he was overprotective of her, and she didn't think she would have in any other circumstances, but here and now, with everything she'd been through, she couldn't help but feel a little bit safer. She shouldn't feel safer. The fact was that Belle had only been in that situation to begin with because of him, and she definitely hadn't forgiven him for that yet, but no matter what else she knew about Rumple, he had only done all of this to be reunited with his son. Even if he hated her (which he apparently didn't), she was certain he'd extend that same all-consuming love to their daughter as well.

"He was somebody Lacey knew," Belle admitted after a little while. "From before Gold."

She was trying not to watch him as she said it, but she could tell the exact second he realized what she meant and suddenly they were both avoiding eye contact with each other.

It wasn't fair, she decided as she picked at her fries. None of it was fair at all. Belle hadn't done any of the things Lacey remembered doing. She'd never even had sex, and yet here she was bearing the consequences. She was the one who had to live with absolute strangers being unable to look her in the eye, she was the one who would give birth to and raise a child. Belle had only ever wanted to go on adventures, fall in love, and live happily ever after. For a while it had seemed like she was on the right track for that, but now things with Rumple were hopelessly complicated and she was afraid they might never fully untangle it all, and a baby was going to postpone any adventures at least for a little while longer.

"Was he..." Rumple began, nervously tearing pieces of his napkin while he intently examined his lunch. "He wasn't...It wasn't one of..."

"No," Belle replied firmly. "He wasn't one of the ones she actually did anything with, I don't think. It's hard to put everything on a timeline, but I remember having sex with him so I think he's just a curse memory and not a real one."

Rumple nodded, clearly feeling relieved at this fact - which, incidentally, was only half-true. Belle remembered two encounters with the mechanic, and in the second one they had gotten all the way to oral sex in the backseat of his car before she stumbled home for the evening. She had no idea how many of the blowjobs she remembered had actually happened, and she wasn't sure she really wanted to tell him that part either.

Half of her was too scared he'd think differently of her if he knew the things she'd done, and the other half wanted him to hate her for it. She knew it would hurt him to hear, and the part of her that was still angry wanted to say it, wanted to pour out all the things that had happened to her and make him hear them. Maybe that was a good enough reason to tell him the truth, then. Tell it to him now before she could do it in a fit of anger.

"You're crying," he said softly, and she was startled back to herself. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she replied on reflex, shaking her head and swiping the tears away as fast as she could. "This is all just so much to take in."

"I understand," he said. "When Miss Swan arrived I could hardly make heads or tails of what was going on. I actually forgot Lacey would be there when I got home."

"And you've had your memory back this whole time, then?" she asked him. "I was so confused about why your behavior changed – I mean, Lacey was confused. It was all so sudden between that afternoon and that evening."

He looked guiltily at his burger and took a bite, chewing it as slow as she'd ever seen a man eat something.

"I hadn't _planned_ on Lacey," he said eventually. "Despite what people always said of me, I wasn't ever one to take young maidens captive. You were the first. And the last, incidentally. I'd hoped to spare you from myself in both worlds, and to spare myself from your leaving."

Belle felt a little bit of her anger deflate at his little confession. She'd always known he'd pushed her away for fear of her leaving, but he'd never been able to say it in so many words. As much as people hated him, Rumpelstiltskin had always been nothing but gentlemanly towards her right up until the very end, when everything had gone so spectacularly wrong.

"You believed Regina," Belle replied simply. "You believed her when she told you I'd moved on."

"I did," he admitted, taking a sip of his drink.

She waited patiently to see if he would offer any other justification, but he didn't. It was on the tip of her tongue to press him for more information, to see if there was some reason she could puzzle out for why he'd believed Regina over her, but she caught herself. He'd given her all the explanation she thought she was likely to ever receive for it already – he hadn't trusted her to love him, he'd always expected she'd leave; Regina had simply confirmed everything he'd already believed would happen, so of course he'd listened.

It made her heart hurt to think about it too much.

"I was a little worried I wouldn't like cheeseburgers anymore," Belle said as cheerfully as she could manage. "It would have made the cravings really difficult to manage, I think. I wonder if any of my tastes have changed."

He looked at her peculiarly for a few seconds and then smiled.

"None of mine have," he replied. "It hadn't occurred to me to wonder about it, though."

"None of them?" she asked him. "My aesthetic preferences definitely changed. Once I have the baby I'm going to have to buy a whole new wardrobe."

"Well all right," he conceded. "That part changed a bit, I'll admit. What kind of clothes would you like?"

"I'm not sure," she replied. "I'll have to figure that part out later I guess. Everything Lacey owned was tight and short."

"That they were," he agreed. "Though I suppose that's who she wanted to be."

Something in the way he spoke drew her attention to that last statement. There was almost a wistful longing in his voice.

"Do you ever wish they were real?" she asked him. "Lacey and Gold, I mean."

He looked startled at her question, but he didn't attempt to dodge it like she'd expected him to, thank the gods.

"It would have been easier, wouldn't it?" he replied a little sadly. "I don't know how she felt about him, but he held a definite affection for her, and he would have loved the baby."

"She cared about him," Belle said with as much emotional detachment as she could manage. "She was less thrilled about the baby, but by then...I don't think even Lacey knew what she wanted, really. But she was happy."

"I'm sorry all this happened," he said. "I'm sorry to put you through this. It shouldn't have happened to you."

"No, it shouldn't have," she snapped. "But I don't want to dwell on it. It happened, alright? Let's just try to move forward?"

Why did he have to bring it up? She was trying so hard to forget how angry she still was, and it was impossible when she could still feel Lacey inside of her, telling her to run before he could break her heart and trying to keep her from falling in love with him again.

Rumple nodded apologetically and returned to his lunch. Belle wished she'd ordered more food to eat, it would at least give her something else to focus on. She'd keep eating forever if it meant not having to face the rest of her life.


	3. Friends and Enemies

_The Enchanted Forest, one month pre-curse_

Belle had run out of supplies a few weeks after escaping from her father's castle. She spent the first week walking through the woods before she ran out of food, though by then she'd been fairly certain she was far enough away from the castle that she could evade detection in her peasant's clothing. In case anyone should press her, she had worked out a story: She'd be a refugee, a war widow returning to her family home.

Her preparations had turned out to be meaningless; there were so many refugees moving in the lands around Avonlea since Rumpelstiltskin had ended the war that no one paid much mind to a lone woman in the crowd. She was on the borders of King Midas' lands when the first truly interesting thing had happened.

Taverns had become the highlight of Belle's travels. They were her source of news and food and (very occasionally) company. On this night, she was in a little tavern in a little town far away from her home when she came across a familiar face.

He was surrounded by strange men, but there was no mistaking the thief (what had Nottingham called him? Robin of Locksley?) who had come to the Dark Castle all those months ago. She stared down into her drink as he and his friends entered on a wave of laughter and good cheer. Belle had no idea how to even approach the man ( _"How have you been? Tortured by any other sorcerers recently?"_ ) but luckily he saved her the trouble.

"My lady!" the thief exclaimed as soon as his eyes lit upon her. "You escaped!"

He slid onto the bench across from her, his companions completely forgotten in his excitement to see her.

"I wouldn't say 'escaped' exactly," she replied, trying hard to keep the hurt out of her voice. "He sent me away.

"Oh," Robin said. "Oh...well, then."

She could hear the shock and confusion in his voice at her near admission, the unspoken _him?_ and disbelief that she had been sad to leave the Dark One.

"Yeah," she agreed with his sentiment if not his actual words. "It's a long story. But you! You were to be a father!"

"I am a father," he said proudly, relief and pride both evident in his voice. "A little boy. His name is Roland."

"That's a lovely name," she replied. "And his mother? Is she here? I'd love to meet her!"

There was a pause in which Belle understood she'd made a terrible mistake.

"My Marian is no longer with us," he said solemnly. "She's passed."

"The wand didn't work?" she blurted out before she could stop herself. Rumple had always said that all magic came with a price, but Belle had seen it work on this woman.

"No, the wand worked," he replied. "This was later."

The silence became awkward and crushing, and Belle just wanted to go back thirty seconds and stop herself from even asking. This was the first friend she'd had since she'd left her father's home (and perhaps the second one she'd had at all in the last year), and now they were both trying desperately to pretend the other wasn't really there.

A cough nearby drew both their attention to the men assembled around them and Belle could have cried in relief.

"Were you planning to introduce us?" a large man holding a bow asked with a little twinkle in his eye.

"Of course!" the thief exclaimed, leaping to his feet. "Little John, Friar Tuck, everyone...this is..."

He gestured towards her, and it occurred to her that he hadn't known her name. Rumple would never introduce her by name to anyone, nor did he like her saying it in front of anyone. Names, after all, have power.

"Belle," she supplied, standing quickly and dropping into a shallow curtsy. "My name is Belle."

"Robin Hood," he replied with a quick bow towards her. "And the Merry Men, at your service."

 _Storybrooke, two days after the curse break_

Rumpelstiltskin had no idea what to do about Belle, or more accurately, he had no idea how to make what had happened to her right again or if that was even a thing he was capable of doing. She'd woken up pregnant with his child - there were probably laws about that sort of thing, actually. Or at least there probably were in this world. In the old world, who knew? It had been a patchwork system where (depending on the reigning monarch and your social status) the stronger you were, the more you could get away with. It was the same here, to a certain extent, but at least there were systems in place.

He watched Belle as she dawdled over her lemonade, swirling the ice around before trying to sip whatever meager amounts of fluid might still remain. He was sure she was avoiding his company as long as possible, and he didn't really blame her for it. He'd avoid himself as well, if he were in her shoes.

"Do you think Princess Abigail is alright?" Belle asked suddenly.

"She was alive last I saw her," he replied. "Although admittedly a little traumatized."

He hadn't seen Princess Abigail since the night she'd been rescued from Regina, and at the time she had been bundled up in the back of an ambulance with a blanket around her shoulders as an EMT who used to be a talking cat checked her vitals, and at the time he'd been far more concerned with making sure Regina knew he'd been the one to cause her to fail so spectacularly to pay much attention to the bossy princess.

"Do you think I could go see her?"

"That would be more her choice than mine," he replied. "But I'm sure something can be arranged."

Unless, of course, she didn't want to deal with the woman carrying the Dark One's child, which was a fear he didn't dare voice to her.

"I'd like that," she said. "It would be nice to have a friend."

"You know her?" he asked. He hadn't realized Belle had been friendly with the princess, or he might have put a bit more effort into keeping her from being murdered.

"We were friends before," Belle replied sounding so very far away now. "When we were girls, I would go to court. Before the ogres came, anyway. That's where I was going where the curse hit – to find Abigail."

That made sense. Lady-in-waiting to a princess would be a perfectly accepted career for a young lady of Belle's social standing, and if she couldn't stay with her father, then seeking refuge of that sort with a friend would have been her last best choice.

Someday, he would ask Belle what had happened in the time after she left him. Someday, when he wasn't afraid of the answers, he'd want to know. How had she stayed safe that whole time? Where had she gone on her way to seek refuge with Midas?

But Rumpelstiltskin was a coward, and he didn't ask her those questions. Instead, he rose and began gathering the paper plates and wrappers from their meal and throwing them away. It was something constructive he could do, at least. Some little thing to keep the day going forward, to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

The ringing of the little bell over the door drew his attention, and he felt Belle stiffen beside him before he even registered that Regina had entered the shop. She stopped short at the sight of him standing there at the counter, but her usual smug smirk was back on her face soon enough that he almost missed her shock.

"I see you made bail," he said as calmly as he could manage. "I don't know what that says about the local authorities."

"Hardly," she sniffed. "It seems some people in town are still loyal to their queen."

"Which one?" he replied evenly. "Because last I heard, Snow White had gone through a portal."

"Before I forget," Regina said, glancing to Belle. "I never did offer you my congratulations on your bun in the oven. Do keep me in mind when it comes time to pick a godmother, won't you?"

Rumpelstiltskin could feel Belle moving a little bit closer to him once Regina's attention had turned to her, but at the reference to their baby she suddenly had her hand on his elbow as though reassuring herself he was there. He positioned himself a little further in front of her, a protective motion that neither woman seemed to miss. Belle tightened her hold on him just a hair while Regina gave an exasperated growl and stormed to the nearest bookshelf to begin examining the tomes kept there.

"Can I help you find something in particular?" he asked, enjoying the annoyed look she shot him. "Or were you just browsing?"

"Can it, Gold," Regina snarled. "You know what I want."

"Enlighten me," he replied. "I'm afraid if you're after recommendations I haven't read all of them, but you do know where the library is."  
Regina sighed loudly before turning to face him.

"Where's my mother's spell book?"

"You mean where's my spell book?" he said. "It was mine to start with, after all."

"Where is it?"

"Oh it's here," he replied. "But you're not taking it."

"And who's going to stop me?" she said as she approached the counter.

Belle withdrew further behind him, so close that he felt her bump brush against him.

"Me, for one," he shot back. "You've not quite given me a good reason to want you to have access to magic."

"I know something you want kept a secret," Regina replied, glancing at the pile of atlases and maps strewn across the counters. "I know that our world still exists."

He couldn't help laughing at that.

"You think I honestly care?" he said.

Regina seemed taken aback by his casual dismissal of what she had clearly hoped was her trump card.

"Nobody can go back," he continued. "I spent gods-only-know how long getting us over here. Whether or not the other world exists is meaningless."

"For old time's sake then," Regina said. "We've been allies, Gold. You'd never even have gotten here if it wasn't for me."

She must be desperate to try that particular appeal, and he did like her best when she was desperate for something.

"Spare me," he replied. "You and I both know that you've outlived your use in that respect, and you've given me no reason to want to give you the power to go against me. Especially now."

She shot a glance over his shoulder towards Belle and her eyes narrowed.

"Well, at least you've impressed your girlfriend," Regina said, affecting a fake cheerfulness as she turned towards the door. "This isn't over, Gold. I'm going to get that book."

She slammed the door behind her as she stormed out.

"I'd like to see you try," he growled to no one in particular before turning to face Belle. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," she said, pulling back a little bit now that the threat was gone but not quite enough to not be in his personal space anymore. "She's just...I don't want to see her."

"I don't either," he tried to be as reassuring as possible. "She is quite unpleasant. But she can't hurt you here, Belle. Either of you. You have my word."

Belle gave a little nod, and he was hoping she wasn't thinking of the last time he'd broken his word to her. They'd both promised forever, after all. He was about to move away to let her gather herself in peace when suddenly she threw herself into his arms and let out a little sob as she pressed her face into his chest.

Rumpelstiltskin didn't delude himself that this was some grand declaration of her tender feelings. She was scared and alone and pregnant – and just last week Lacey had started sobbing uncontrollably because they were out of mayonnaise. Still, though, he wrapped his arms tight around Belle, petting her hair and making little shushing noises until she finally gave a last little sniffle and pulled back a bit apologetically.

"Sorry," she said. "I just...I don't know. Thank you, though."

"Think nothing of it," he replied, taking a risk and brushing some hair off of her face. She was puffy and her cheeks were sticky and red. "It's literally the least I can do."

She laughed at that, the same way she'd always laughed at his awful jokes and idle threats. It made him long for the time before when things between them only seemed complicated because he made them complicated.

"I didn't just mean for letting me cry," she said after she'd settled down. "I meant thank you for before. With Regina."

He had no idea what to say to that. If she owed him anything at all, it wasn't gratitude. Regina never would have had her eyes on Belle in the first place if he hadn't put them there.

"It's no matter," he said at last. "She can't hurt you here. I won't let her."

"I know," she replied, offering him a sweet little smile that he mentally filed away for a rainy day.

She was so damn beautiful, and so unsure of herself for a split second before she lunged forward and kissed him.

It took Rumpelstiltskin a moment to recover from his shock. Belle was kissing him, and this time it was somehow even less expected than the last. Her arms were around his neck holding him close and he indulged in letting himself hold her close and then he was kissing her back. It was only his second time kissing Belle, although Gold and Lacey had obviously done far more than that. She was timider this time, but far more enthusiastic somehow. She didn't press for anything, but she eagerly returned his kisses now that he was giving them.

After a few minutes they broke apart, but she didn't pull away again. Instead, Belle rested her face on his chest again and he trailed his fingertips up and down her arms.

"I'm sorry," she said after a few minutes. "I shouldn't have done that."

"Please don't apologize," he replied, shutting his eyes tight and praying he could shut out reality just this little bit longer. "There's nothing to apologize for."

"I'm not ready yet," she explained and he nodded in agreement, hoping he didn't seem too eager.

He'd wait as long as she wanted, because this was already more than he'd ever thought to have.


	4. Princes and Thieves

_The Enchanted Forest, two weeks pre-curse_

Belle had known intellectually that Robin was a thief. She'd met him, after all, because he'd been breaking into Rumpelstiltskin's castle to steal something. Regardless of whether she felt he was justified in that particular instance, he had definitely been comfortable enough with his skills as a burglar to risk breaking into arguably the single most well protected building in the entire Enchanted Forest. Still, knowing something and _knowing_ something were very different things.

She'd thought that being with the Merry Men would be a great adventure, but within a week, the life of crime became more than she could handle. The breaking point had been the day that she had been asked to pose as Roland's distressed mother and beg for help from a passing carriage while the rest of the Merry Men looted it. Belle, it turned out, was not born for the life of a bandit.

It didn't matter what platitudes they said about stealing from the rich to feed the poor. In her old life, Belle had had enough to share without petty theft.

She was sitting a little away from the rest of the group as they drank and laughed about this latest victory. Roland was with her and she was showing him how to weave daisy chains to make flower crowns.

Her attention was drawn back towards the group when they erupted in a cheer and she saw Little John entering the clearing with the bags of gold he'd lifted. She sighed and went back to weaving Roland a crown fit for the king of the forest. He had already proclaimed Belle as his queen, though that was likely because she was the only woman he knew.

"Halt!" Roland exclaimed loudly, jumping to his feet.

Belle glanced up from her pile of flowers to see the boy holding his little wooden sword towards his approaching father. Robin smiled indulgently at his son and put his hands in the air.

"I come on a mission of peace, my liege," Robin said, offering Roland a courtly bow. "I seek an audience with the queen, if I may."

Roland glanced back to Belle with an uncertain look on his face.

"And what is the purpose of this visit, good sir?" she called to Robin.

"Very boring adult business, my lady," he replied.

"In that case," she said, setting her pile of flowers onto the forest floor and brushing out her skirts. "You can accompany me on a quest to gather more flowers. We're running low."

Robin nodded and whispered something to Roland who immediately dashed off to join the men around the campfire.

"So," she said once they were alone. "What was so important?"

"You and Roland did well today," Robin said simply as Belle led him away from the clearing towards where she and Roland had found flowers earlier. "Have you given any more thought to what we discussed?"

He'd asked her if she wanted to stay in a more permanent capacity, and Belle had put him off. She hadn't truly decided yet where she wanted to go and where would be the safest place for her. If she managed to get to Midas' kingdom, she could take shelter inside the castle walls and in Abigail's good graces. She didn't believe that she was important enough to Regina for the queen to come fetch her personally - at least not with the threat of Snow White and her new husband still looming - but it was a distinct possibility. With the Merry Men, she had the safety of anonymity. Nobody they encountered knew her name or where she had come from, and no one would know to look for her here in the forest (aside from possibly Rumpelstiltskin, but she'd long ago given up thinking he might come for her).

"I still haven't made up my mind," Belle replied. "I can't ask you all to keep me here when I'm such a liability."

"No more of a liability than the rest of us," he said simply, stooping to pluck a few blossoms. "We're all wanted, after all, and no one more than me."

He said it so simply, like he hadn't been tortured within an inch of his life. Like he hadn't only barely escaped because Rumpelstiltskin had wanted her to think well of him.

He could still come looking for her, Belle realized. She'd heard rumors he was being kept prisoner but Belle was no fool - there was no cage that could contain the Dark One. If Rumpelstiltskin decided to come looking for her, he would know how to find her here, and Robin's life could very well be forfeit if Rumple truly had no further feelings for her.

She didn't really believe he would come for her, or that he would hurt Robin, but the possibility still remained and in the end, that had to be enough to make her mind up for her. Abigail would be safer with her around than Robin was - whether he knew it or not.

 _Storybrooke, three days after the curse break_

He traded a tracking potion for a phone number. Of all the deals Rumpelstiltskin had ever made with the Charmings, this was probably the worst (although the look on the prince's face when Rumpelstiltskin's price ended up being Princess Abigail's phone number had almost been worth the cost of the magic itself). Whatever Charming needed with a tracking potion, though, it paled in comparison to the importance of the hopeful little smile on Belle's face when he presented her with a way to contact her friend - or the hug she'd given him immediately after that and before she bounded off to find her phone.

It was nice being friends with Belle again, he decided. It didn't really matter so much if she ever loved him again as long as she was still _here_. Even if 'here' was sometimes Granny's diner where she was sitting across from the blonde princess and talking in low tones with an occasionally guarded look on her face while he sat a few booths away and watched her in between examining the atlas he'd brought with him.

Charming had said that the town borders were closed to them. Should any of them cross the town line, all their memories would be forfeit. It had been a blow, and his shop still bore signs of his frustration, if you knew where to look. He'd cleaned it up as much as possible once he'd come back to himself, but as soon as Belle came into the room, she'd recognized something had happened. Belle always knew when he was upset, but thankfully she didn't push him for details and he wasn't going to offer any. She'd learn about how trapped they were soon enough.

He'd promised her an adventure - a real one this time. He had no idea where in this world Baelfire might be, and while they searched, they would see everything that the Land Without Magic had to offer. He had asked Regina for enough money to allow him to find his son, but he could spare some of it for making things up to Belle.

Giggling from the other table caught his attention and he glanced up to see Belle and Abigail leaning over the table conspiratorially. He was going to have to find a workaround to get them out of this town, but the seer had said he would be reunited with his son again. Rumpelstiltskin would simply have to trust in that, and in the meantime he would do whatever it took to make Belle happy.

Rumpelstiltskin was startled out of what was most certainly _not_ a daydream about Belle and the baby and Bae all sitting together in an apartment in Paris and reading a novel when Jefferson slid into the booth across from him.

"What do you want?" he snapped, largely because he strongly suspected that the hatter had seen the look on his face.

"Regina survived," Jefferson said. "I used the wraith like you told me and she survived!"

"I didn't tell you to do anything," Rumpelstiltskin replied. "I simply provided you with the means to do what you'd requested."

"Don't pretend that you were doing me a favor," Jefferson shot back. "You don't do _favors_ and we both know it. You wanted her gone just as much as I did."

"Perhaps," Rumpelstiltskin said. "But I have other things to worry about besides Regina. She doesn't have her magic here. She's of little concern."

As if on cue, there was a small stampede of people down the street in front of the diner. Belle and Abigail both looked concerned, but Rumpelstiltskin was instantly on edge.

"That sounds like it's probably my hint to leave," Jefferson said as he slid out of the booth. "But don't think I've forgotten about this, Gold."

"The thought never crossed my mind."

Jefferson let himself out of the diner and into the throng of people and Rumpelstiltskin decided to take his lead, getting to his feet and collecting his papers. Whatever was going on, it was bad and they were vulnerable here. He itched to get Belle back to the safety of their house and away from whatever else was going on.

She seemed almost surprised when he approached their table, but she didn't protest when he offered his hand to help her up.

"This has been fun," Abigail said, glancing suspiciously at Rumpelstiltskin. "We should do it again sometime."

"Definitely," Belle agreed. "I'm so glad we got to catch up."

The women hugged quickly and then he had Belle on the street and headed towards his car.

"Thank you," she said once they were safely on their way home. "For getting me her number. And taking me to see her."

"You don't have to thank me for that," he said instantly. "You're a grown woman, and you're not my maid."

"Still," she replied. "I know you've been worried about me being out with people right now. Thank you for coming with me."

Belle smiled at him and put her hand on his and for a second it felt like he was floating, but he had to focus because failure to do so would result in running over pedestrians. Seriously, what was going on? Charming had scheduled a town hall meeting, but for the life of him Rumpelstiltskin couldn't figure out how that possibly could have led to this sort of hysteria. The boy wasn't the most charismatic prince he'd ever seen, but this was overkill even for that.

Speaking of Charming, he was actually waiting on the porch when Rumpelstiltskin and Belle returned. How they'd been beaten home he couldn't begin to guess, but from the agitation on Charming's face Rumpelstiltskin strongly suspected he may soon have his answer about the mob.

Charming leapt to his feet as soon as the Cadillac pulled into the driveway and was approaching the car before it was even parked.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Rumpelstiltskin said as soon as he was out of the vehicle.

He heard Belle letting herself out of the car as well and he glanced over his shoulder to make sure she wasn't disturbed by this intrusion. She looked curious, and he had to squash the urge to smile. Belle always looked curious.

"Regina has magic back," Charming blurted out. "She interrupted the town meeting and stole Henry."

This elicited a gasp from Belle, who came around the side of the car to stand with Rumpelstiltskin.

"What happened?" she asked curiously before turning to Rumpelstiltskin. "I thought she couldn't access magic here."

"She couldn't," Rumple said with a grimace. "At least, she couldn't the day before yesterday."

"So you didn't make a deal with her?" Charming asked pointedly.

"Why would I make a deal with Regina?" Rumpelstiltskin replied with his own question. "What could she _possibly_ have to offer me?"

"You have to do something," Charming said. "We can't let her keep Henry."

"I'm sorry," Rumpelstiltskin shot back. "What do you expect me to do to stop her? Kill her for you?"

This brought Charming up short and even Belle seemed to pause.

"That's what I thought," Rumple continued. "Even if I did steal the boy back for you, she's not going to stop coming after him as long as she's alive."

"Can't you bind her magic?" Charming asked. "Or put a protection spell on him? Something?"

"Magic isn't the same here," Rumpelstiltskin replied. "And besides, to bind someone as powerful as Regina would require at least three witches and a sample of her blood - neither of which you have."

"So what am I supposed to do, then?" Charming said. "Just let her keep my grandson?"

Rumpelstiltskin took a deep breath and looked over at Belle. She was watching him and he _knew_ this was a test that he couldn't afford to fail in front of her. She had to know he wouldn't side with Regina and that he was capable of protecting her.

"Give me until tomorrow," he finally sighed.

"I can't wait that long," Charming replied instantly. "I can't abandon Henry."

"Everybody knows that she won't hurt Henry," Rumpelstiltskin said. "Anyway, it takes that long to make the potion."

"And your price?"

"We can discuss that in the morning," Rumpelstiltskin replied. "either way, it seems you have a town to calm and I'd suggest you do better than a speech this time."

Charming's jaw was working as he stared at Rumpelstiltskin, but finally he nodded and relaxed.

"Tomorrow," Charming agreed, turning towards his truck. "I'll be by first thing in the morning."

"Bring your sword," Rumpelstiltskin called to the other man's back. "You may need it."


	5. A Pleasant Place

_Australia_

Lacey's best memory ever was before her parents moved to Maine. She would have been maybe seven or eight, her parents took her out to Elouera Beach in Sydney. It was a little out of the way, but it wasn't nearly as busy as Bondi. She still remembered the way the sunscreen her mother had smeared all over her had smelled, and she remembered how incredibly impatient she'd been to get into the water already before her mother was finally sure that she wouldn't come out burned to a crisp.

The waves were high and her mother hadn't let her get too far out into the surf, but there were teenage boys on surfboards that she could see in the distance. When it was time to come out and have lunch, she'd watched them as they chatted between themselves while they waited for good waves to come up. Lacey wasn't entirely sure what made a wave 'good' for them, but occasionally she'd see one start to tense up before he started paddling ahead of the wave, waiting for that breathless moment when suddenly he'd jump up on his feet and let the wave carry him where it wanted him to go. Every time, the ride ended with the guy in the water, and every time his head would pop up with a big smile on his face as he retrieved his board and went back out to meet his friends.

"Papa," she'd said between bites of fish and chips sold to them by a bored looking teenage girl whose eyes, like Lacey's, kept wandering out to the boys on their boards. "Can I try that?"

Her father had followed her gaze out into the waves and a big smile had bloomed on his face.

"When you're a little older, Lace," he had said, patting her on the head. "You know, your old man used to do a bit of surfing."

Her mother had smiled at the memory, and Lacey had sat enthralled as her father told her all about his exploits as a young man, leading up to meeting her mother sitting near a bonfire with a few other friends and realizing she was the girl for him after watching her clean a fish someone had caught. Cindy French had blushed a bright pink and called her husband a flatterer and then sent her daughter back out swimming.

They'd stayed at the beach until the sun went down, and Lacey was far too tired to move anymore. She fell asleep in the backseat on the way home, and dreamed of the strange freedom of the waves and her own bonfires someday. Of course, a few years later Cindy had been diagnosed with skin cancer and told to stay out of the sun, and Moe had packed his family up and immigrated to Maine where there wasn't a hole in the ozone layer to threaten his wife and his daughter.

Three years after that, Cindy was hit by a drunk driver and Lacey's entire world had collapsed around her. She didn't know if her father ever really forgave himself for bringing them to the place where her mother had been crossing the street at exactly the right time to be hit by that truck, but then she also didn't know for sure that she'd ever really forgiven him for it, either. They both knew that none of it was his fault, but it was so much easier to pretend that it was than it ever had been to contemplate the horrifying uncertainty of life and how sometimes when you tried to protect the person you loved they'd end up hurt even worse.

 _Storybrooke, 2011_

Belle felt useless. She felt pregnant, and useless, and the nesting instinct had finally kicked in and she'd never wanted to mop a floor the way she suddenly did. They were still months out from the baby being born, and they weren't even planning on being in Storybrooke when she gave birth, but suddenly the fact that there was only a half-assed nursery in the house so far was driving her up a wall. Lacey had purchased a crib and a few stuffed animals, but very little else. There were no clothes, no diapers, no car seat. The idea of her daughter not even having sheets yet was giving Belle the worst sorts of fits and she wanted desperately to run out and fix it, but Rumple was locked in the basement working on the potion he'd said Prince James needed to deal with Regina. She couldn't interrupt him. What he was doing was incredibly important and Belle _knew_ that, but damn she just wanted to buy a rocking chair.

Her daughter didn't have a name yet, either. Lacey had settled on the name Piper Neveah, but Belle had barely had time to come to terms with being pregnant yet and she certainly hadn't had time to think about names. She wasn't even sure which ones Rumple would like - she only barely knew the name of his son.

Belle was listlessly walking from room to room, scavenging things she thought the baby might be able to use and she wasn't even sure what purpose she thought it would even serve. The room that Lacey had chosen for the baby was painted a bright pink already and it clashed horribly with the little figurines she'd taken out of the study and set up on a shelf in the baby's room. Once they were there, she needed to change the furniture to match the crib. One of the guest bedrooms provided some end tables that matched the wood of the crib well enough. She was pondering whether or not she could move the dresser herself when Rumple found her.

"I thought you'd still be working," she said as soon as she saw him.

"The potion has to steep," he replied, watching her pull drawers out and set them on the bed. "What are you doing?"

"We don't have furniture for the baby," she said as evenly as possible. She knew it didn't make sense, but she was really hoping he wouldn't make her feel stupid for it either.

"Do you want help?" he asked, moving forward to take one of the drawers from her. "You shouldn't be lifting things."

"It's not that heavy," she replied, testing the weight of the dresser. "I just want to make sure she has a home to come back to once we've found Bae."

He paused for a second, and if she hadn't known him so well she never would have even noticed it. She wasn't quite sure what he was thinking, and she knew he wouldn't tell her if she asked.

"Are you hungry?" he asked. "I could make something."

"I'm not," she replied. "I just...I think the nesting impulse finally kicked in."

"I'll get someone to move the furniture for you," he said. "And if you like we can go buy furniture once Regina is dealt with. Whatever you like."

"We're going to have to eventually," she said. "We won't be traveling forever."

"I suppose not," he replied and something in the way he said it triggered Belle's curiosity.

"How long do you think we'll be traveling?" she asked him and he glanced towards her quickly.

"I don't know," he admitted. "I don't even know how old he'll be."

"No?"

"It was a long time ago," he replied with a shrug, as though that explained everything. "A lot can happen."

It was a frustrating non-answer, but she didn't push him this time. Rumple didn't like to tell her things, but Belle was beginning to realize more and more that she didn't necessarily want to hear the things he was unwilling to share with her. She would learn the truth of his son at some point from the boy (man?) himself, but for right now the important thing had to be repairing whatever they had left of their relationship before their daughter arrived.

Belle picked up the drawers she'd pulled out of the dresser and started moving them to the nursery. She heard him pick one up himself, as well as the distinctive cadence of his footsteps behind her.

"How did the potion go?" she asked him as she put the drawers near where she planned for the dresser to go.

"It will do what Charming needs," he replied cryptically and she resisted the urge to throttle him. She was trying to respect his boundaries and let him get used to her being there before she pushed him too hard, but a woman had to have her limits.

"Which is?"

"It will render Regina powerless long enough for him to retrieve young Henry."

"And what will keep her from coming back for him?" she asked. "If it's just a temporary measure, then won't she just come back when it wears off?"

"Probably," he replied. "But even Regina isn't entirely unreasonable. So far she hasn't wanted to commit any proper atrocities in front of her son."

He shrugged, and she knew that he was essentially at a loss as to how to proceed past that himself. A thought occurred to her, then.

"How did Regina get magic?" she asked. "She came in the shop that day looking for a book because she didn't have any."

She watched his lips press into a thin line.

"That would be the question, wouldn't it?" he said. "The magic was here from the moment I brought it, but she wasn't able to access it. I don't know if she found a way past her mental block or some other artifact that I hadn't known of. Either way, you can rest assured _that_ will be dealt with."

"You think she might come after me," Belle replied before adding: "and the baby."

"I won't lie," he said, turning away as casually as possible and picking up one of the little tchochkes she'd brought into the nursery to examine it. "It's a possibility. The longer we stay here the larger a threat I am. It's possible she might want some...leverage."

Belle hadn't quite realized when she'd lived with him in the Dark Castle how deeply the threat of someone gaining leverage over him had affected Rumplestiltskin. He'd traded the gauntlet to save her from the three witches once, but even then she hadn't really understood the purpose of that hostage situation or his reason for getting her back. Not until she'd encountered Regina on that road and had the idea of _true love_ dangled over her head that all the moments of their life together had come crashing into clarity, like taking a step back from a tapestry and suddenly seeing the whole scene rather than the individual stitches.

Even having never met Baelfire, Belle knew his father loved him more than anything. Rumple had sacrificed all hope of a happy ending with her in exchange for his son, and with her own child coming (even under the circumstances she found herself in) she thought perhaps she could finally understand at least a little of what had driven the man before her into such darkness. She and her child would represent a new weakness to him, and she knew he would do whatever he deemed necessary to protect them from threats.

Before she could second guess herself, she came up behind him and wound her arms around his middle. She pressed her cheek against the middle of his back and felt his muscles tense in response to her proximity, but she simply held him until he relaxed and she felt his free hand tentatively come to rest over hers.

"I'd like us to fix this," she said quietly. It was the thing she wouldn't dare say to his face - things were too raw still, too new. "But I need you to trust me the way I trust you."

He was silent for so long she wasn't sure he'd even heard her, but eventually his head jerked in a stiff nod.

"I'm trying," he whispered in a voice so soft she almost thought she was dreaming it.

He didn't continue, but then she'd been surprised to get that much out of him. Belle held Rumple just a moment longer before disentangling herself and stepping away. He glanced back at her, but neither one spoke as they both found things to keep themselves busy in different rooms.

She wanted to forgive him, but he had to earn it first.


	6. A Lot Like Love

_Storybrooke, 2005_

Sunday was always Lacey's day off. Granted, it wasn't like she did much of anything the rest of the week, but she'd at least put an effort into her clothes and hair and try to spend some time with Gold in the evenings. Sundays, though, all bets were off; that was when she watched _Desperate Housewives_.

After dinner, Gold would go to his office to do whatever it was he did when she wasn't around and she would wash her hair, change into cotton shorts and a sweatshirt, and settle in to watch her show. If Ruby had the night off, they'd be texting back and forth whenever something exciting happened, although sometimes Lacey suspected her friend specifically _didn't_ try to take the night off so that she wouldn't have to gush about designer clothes and big houses with her.

Things between the two of them had been growing noticeably more tense since Lacey had moved in with Gold, and while Lacey totally understood where her friend was coming from (she was pretty sure she'd have been pretty jealous if Ruby had been the one with the rich boyfriend) that didn't make things a lot easier. She tried to be generous when they went out, paying for Ruby's drinks and manicures and stuff they did together, but that had its own shit that came with it. The truth was, it was getting harder and harder to ignore that Lacey had become a kept woman with all the benefits and limitations that came with it, and Ruby was a single waitress who was still dreaming of running away. Lacey could buy whatever she saw on TV if she liked it and thought it would look good on her, and that was making it really hard to have as much in common with her friend as she used to.

On the days when Ruby worked, it was a lot more difficult to pretend that she wasn't kind of lonely, and on those days Lacey appreciated it a lot more when Gold would inevitably get sick of sitting alone and come out to see what she was up to.

Talking was strictly forbidden while the show was on, but he'd still come into the room and sit down next to her, him in a suit still (or at least his shirtsleeves) and her in a too-large sweatshirt and damp hair. He never criticized her taste in television, even though she wouldn't have blamed him if he did. He'd just sit there quietly with a glass of scotch in his hand and her head on his shoulder and stroke her arm softly when she curled her knees up to her chest and snuggled into him.

It was a lot like love between the two of them, then. Maybe it wasn't roses and chocolate and proclamations of undying affection. It wasn't Tom Cruise showing up at the end of the movie with a well-timed _you complete me_ , or Ryan Gosling and Rachel McAdams making out in the rain, but it was warm and it was quiet. It surprised Lacey just how much she craved those sorts of moments, even though she'd never dare to admit it to anybody else.

Gold was lonely. She'd figured that out shortly after she moved in. Hell, it was probably the only reason he'd even bothered to invite her to stay in the first place. She hadn't realized, though, that she was just as lonely as he was until suddenly she hadn't been so lonely anymore. But even if nothing else, they were lonely together now, and that was a lot better than before.

 _Storybrooke, 2011_

In the end, Rumplestiltskin's potion hadn't been necessary. Regina surrendered Henry easily when Charming had arrived at dawn to reclaim his grandson. The hour itself wasn't coincidental. Rumplestiltskin had instructed the prince to strike then, as light magic was strongest in the early morning. Magic was finicky like that sometimes.

He had promised Belle that he could provide protection, and she deserved no less. He had failed Bae utterly, and by the end Milah had been completely disgusted by his weaknesses. He couldn't fail Belle like that, and couldn't fail another child.

Once Regina was dealt with (or not, as it had turned out) he'd taken Belle to the store to purchase her nursery furniture. He'd do whatever it took to make her feel better about carrying his child - his daughter, he corrected himself. Belle was carrying their daughter, whoever she may end up being. Belle was currently upstairs, directing delivery men in the precise positioning of the furniture in the nursery. Rumplestiltskin would almost feel bad about letting her loose on unsuspecting strangers except that he knew she'd tip them obscenely well once it was over. For his part, he'd returned to the safety of his basement workroom. Charming's potion had set him back a day on a locator spell he was working on for finding Bae, and he was itching to get back to work on it. A quick glance at the table by the wall, though, revealed that Belle had forgotten her baby name book when she went to bed the night before.

She had come to sit with him as he had been finishing the potion. She'd brought a book of baby names with her, and had been carefully asking him for his opinions on whatever caught her fancy. Belle was determined that whatever name they chose should be appropriate both in the Land Without Magic and the Enchanted Forest. To that end, she had apparently made a list of her favorites and Rumplestiltskin could see it peeking out from the inside cover with a series of names written in her careful scrawl. His initial reaction was to ignore it and respect her privacy, but how much privacy did she really expect for a list of baby names left sticking halfway out of a book? Before he could debate it further, his fingers had already slipped the list the rest of the way out of the book and running his fingers over the names that may one day be given to his daughter.

The names she had chosen were frilly and just a little romantic.

 _Colette_

 _Adelais_

 _Amarantha_

 _Athenais_

 _Aurelie_

 _Avila_

 _Calliope_

 _Celeste_

 _Daphne_

 _Elise_

 _Estelle_

 _Eugenie_

 _Frida_

 _Godiva_

 _Isolde_

 _Jocelyn_

 _Lucinde_

 _Lydie_

 _Madeleine_

 _Noemie_

 _Odette_

 _Penelope_

 _Sabine_

 _Sidonie_

 _Sylvie_

 _Vivienne_

Names had power. Nobody knew that better than Rumplestiltskin, and each of these names spoke of something. Each name represented Belle's hopes for their daughter and her future, and each one was a future teeming with possibility. His fingers practically tingled with the latent magic in the list, and that was the only excuse he had for not hearing Belle when she joined him.

"There you are," she said from the stairs.

Rumplestiltskin felt like a child caught with his hand in a cookie jar, quickly shoving the paper back into the book and turning to face her. She looked at him curiously, then down to where the book rested on the counter.

"You're allowed to look, you know," she said simply, coming over to where he stood, pulling the paper out of the book, and handing it to him. "She's your daughter, too."

"I know," he replied, although he hadn't really believed it. "I was just curious."

He didn't like to invade her space, to be honest. He never had. Even when she'd been living in a dungeon, he had done his best to stay away from things that were 'hers' unless invited. It was the last little line he had tried not to cross, the thing that had kept her from becoming just another trinket acquired in a deal.

"Did you see anything you liked on the list?" she asked him, and he turned his attention back to the list of names.

Several of them had jumped out at him, though not necessarily for good reasons - people he'd met in deals, mostly. Then, there was the one at the top - Colette - the only name out of alphabetical order. It had been written in a different pen, as well, as though added either before or after the other ones.

"'Godiva' is mostly remembered for being naked and covered in hair," he said at last. "But Colette is very pretty."

"I _knew_ Lacey remembered that name from someplace," she exclaimed, taking the list and scratching out Godiva. "But I thought it was just the chocolate."

"She was a very interesting woman," Rumplestiltskin replied. "Though she died long before you were born."

"You knew her?"

"I did," he said. "Though not very well. There really aren't that many people of note that didn't have at least some dealing with me."

"Oh," she said softly, and he wished he could decipher all the layers and layers of meaning in that syllable but it felt like it was just outside his grasp when she changed the subject. "You like the name Colette, though?"

"I do," he said evenly. It wasn't necessarily his favorite name, but it seemed to mean something to Belle. "Did you have a favorite?"

"Colette was my mother's name," Belle said softly. "She died not long before we met."

He should have known that. Why hadn't he known that? Why hadn't it ever occurred to him to ask? Because, he realized, she didn't like to talk about it. Whatever happened must have hit her hard, but he wasn't sure how to ask or if he even should. Wouldn't she just tell him if she wanted him to know?

"Do you want to name the baby after her?" he asked instead, hoping there was an easy answer

"I don't know," she replied. "We were...I loved my mother very much. I just - I don't know if I can think of a baby with her name."

"There are always nicknames," he offered. "Or we can give her two names, if you'd prefer, or even find something similar. But if you want to name her after your mother, then I'd like for that to happen."

Belle turned towards him with a look on her face that seemed familiar and comforting and terrifying all at once.

"I'll see what I can find," she said sweetly, seeming to debate something with herself. "And you'll tell me if you find something you like better?"

"Of course," he said, and he could guarantee that because he'd never go looking for something to love more.

She was still standing strangely close to him, though her eyes had darted down to her hands for a moment.

"Do you remember when Lacey used to watch her shows on Sunday evenings?" she asked all of a sudden.

He had to nod, because what else could he do? Of course he remembered. He remembered sitting with her even though another man had been there with chestnut curls draped over his arm as she snuggled her entire body into his side. Sundays were dedicated to Lacey's shows, but she had always welcomed Mr. Gold's presence in the room with her, and he had taken advantage of that open invitation. There had been something warm and comforting about her simply being in a room like that.

"I was thinking," Belle continued. "They were happy together in the beginning, but that wasn't just them, was it? I mean, that was still us in there, right?"

"In a way," he replied cautiously, unsure of where she was going with this. "And I think there are aspects of them that are in us."

"I can almost feel her sometimes," Belle said with a shrug. "And you know Lacey, she's always been a little forward."

Before he could even try to figure out what she meant by that, she was on her tiptoes with her lips pressed against his. He'd only kissed Belle a few other times, and their first kiss had ended disastrously, but there was no reason for that now. The curse couldn't be broken in this world, and if she'd forgiven him he'd be damned if he ruined it again. It took until she was pulling away that he realized he hadn't quite managed to kiss her back in his shock. She had a pretty blush on her cheeks, and was looking at him with so much hope in her eyes. He could almost hear the echoes of her whispered _kiss me again, it's working_ , except that was a lifetime ago and there was nothing stopping him now except his own cowardice.

Taking a chance, he leaned forward and reclaimed her lips. She was warm and sweet, and he had missed her every day since she had left him. He craved her the way a flower craved water, he wanted her like he'd never wanted anyone else before or since.

She had leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his neck, and he let his hands creep down to rest in her waist. He wanted to ask her if this meant that he was forgiven, but he was too scared of the answer. If she hadn't forgiven him yet, then this certainly wasn't hurting his chances - and if she _had_ , then asking her now couldn't do much more than remind her to be annoyed with him.

So instead of asking, he contented himself with simply being allowed to touch her even for just this moment, with the feel of her dress over her skin, and with the taste of her on his lips. In that moment, she was his everything. She was his hope for the future, and his last chance at salvation - and she was right there with him. For the first time in a long time, Rumplestiltskin felt the first stirrings of hope.


	7. They Are Both

_Storybrooke, 2005_

Gold didn't like to invade Lacey's personal time, but occasionally it was just too tempting. She never turned him away when he would drop down onto the sofa next to her on Sunday evenings while her show was on. It wasn't necessarily the sort of thing he would have chosen, but he could usually find some way to interest himself in it while she was there. He hadn't quite managed to learn all of the characters' names yet, but Lacey liked the show and he liked Lacey, and that's all that really mattered when it came down to it.

He was sitting on the sofa with her head in his lap and stroking her hair while she watched the show. Something was going on with one of the characters cheating on her husband with the gardener who had just taken his shirt off when Lacey made a weird little cooing noise.

"Are you okay?" he asked, watching the way her hair slipped over his fingers as he ran them through it.

"Yeah," she replied quickly, sitting back up. "Sorry. Just got a little distracted."

He glanced back to the television, where the shirtless gardener and the wealthy housewife were now kissing heavily on the screen.

 _Oh._

"Not like that," she said, following his gaze to the screen. "Don't be so self-conscious."

"Do I have something to be self-conscious about?" he said as coolly as he could, leaning back against the arm of the sofa and watching her intently.

"Not at all," she replied, slipping into her girlfriend role so smoothly he almost missed the transition. "Let me show you."

She was in his lap before he knew it, with her fingers in his hair and her lips on his neck.

"Lacey," he groaned as she pressed her palm against his rapidly hardening cock. "Do you have a crush on the gardener?"

"We don't have a gardener," she reminded him, leaning back a little bit.

"You know what I meant."

She scowled a little bit.

"He's an _actor_ , Gold," she said sharply. "The entire point of the character is to be eye candy."

"And?"

"So he's attractive," she replied. "So what? It's not like you to get jealous about this."

It really wasn't, which was what made this even worse. Not only was he overreacting, he was drawing way too much attention to it. He didn't know why he was so upset, either. It was somehow different when it was men in town. None of them dared to even look twice at Lacey, and they both knew it. If anything, it was entertaining watching her lead them on knowing there was no hope in it, knowing that she was primarily interested in her ability to tease.

This was different, though. It wasn't someone she was enjoying taunting, or anything they'd really dealt with in their relationship before. This was Lacey finding someone attractive purely for her own pleasure, and for some reason it scared the hell out of him.

"Forget it," he snapped, turning back to the television and hoping she'd leave it alone.

It was on commercials. Damn.

"Hey," she said, touching his jaw with her fingers to turn him back toward her. "You know what I really like?"

He did not want to be having this conversation - it was far too embarrassing - but he also needed to hear what she would say.

"I like silver foxes," she said with a mischievous little lilt in her voice that always distracted him no matter what. "In nice suits."

"You don't have to do this," he replied. "It's nothing. Forget I ever said anything."

"But it's true," she purred, climbing back into his lap and pressing herself into him. "Don't you believe me?"

He wasn't really sure what he believed. He wanted to believe her, but they both knew that Lacey was an accomplished liar.

"Fine then," she said, grabbing his hand. "See for yourself."

She guided his hand into her shorts and under her panties, where he could feel she was soaking wet. He let out a groan, knowing there was no way to maintain his poor mood in the face of all this. Someday, she was going to be the death of him.

"Come on, Gold," she teased, pulling her hand away and running it through his hair. "Don't leave me hanging."

Her lips crashed into his, and the last thing he was consciously aware of was the little whimper she made when his fingers dipped into her the way he knew she liked it.

 _Storybrooke, 2011_

Belle didn't want to be angry anymore. She knew Rumplestiltskin was sorry, and part of her was still upset he hadn't trusted her. But it hurt her to be upset with him, and she was just so sick of it. He'd made an awful mistake, but she had accepted his reasons for it. She didn't really understand yet why he'd believed Regina and not her, but to him it had made sense. Anyway, it wasn't helping anyone for her to continue to be angry.

She could feel Lacey whispering the words _make-up sex_ somewhere in the back of her consciousness, and maybe that's what this was - a last ditch effort at fixing things between them. Belle wasn't really sure, she just knew she desperately wanted him. Her hormones had been going haywire for weeks, she was pregnant, and all she could think about was that she'd never had sex before and it just seemed like an awful injustice that she'd give birth before choosing to sleep with a man she loved. And she did love Rumplestiltskin; she'd loved him for years and she would love him until she died. How had no one ever thought to tell her when she'd been a little girl that true love could be this? That it would hurt and be so very, very hard sometimes and that she'd never feel whole without him?

Rumplestiltskin was pulling back from the kiss, but she wasn't quite ready to let him go yet. They'd never done this, and yet they'd done it a thousand times before and it had been too damn long. Her hands were on his lapels before she could stop herself, and he paused, letting her deepen the kiss before she wound her arms behind his neck and leaned against him as much as she dared.

He seemed a little shocked for a moment at her forwardness, but Belle wasn't sure how else to ask for what she wanted. Lacey had left her with an extensive vocabulary, but none of the words belonged to _Belle_. They were Lacey's things and using them somehow didn't feel right, regardless of the pieces of her that were still a part of Belle. Not for this man in this moment.

Rumplestiltskin still seemed terrified to touch her, but he was becoming more confident as they kissed, letting fingertips on her sides slowly turn into palms on her hips. He was still tentative, but he'd always been tentative when it came to her.

She was at a point where if he didn't stop treating her like he was terrified to touch her, she was going to chase him around a table until he got over it. This time, at least, she knew things about men that she hadn't known before the curse, and she remembered tricks that made her blush now to think about. She tangled the fingers of one hand in his hair while the other one made its way down to the waist of his trousers and started working his belt free.

It may have been a testament to how starved they both were for affection that he hadn't noticed (or cared) what she was doing until she had his zipper down and her hand inside his boxers. He pulled away from the kiss at that point, staring at her like a deer who'd heard a noise while wandering through the woods and hadn't quite decided if it should run away or not yet. She didn't take her hand away, but she didn't move it further either. Instead, she let it settle against his belly with her fingertips just brushing the curls below.

"Rumple," she whispered his name into his neck, hoping to soothe him before he could overthink this. "I miss you. I miss you and I'm sick of being mad at you." She punctuated this with a brush of her lips against his neck. "Anyway, I'm already pregnant."

She felt him stifle groan at her innuendo, but he didn't make any move to touch her still. It was driving her absolutely insane.

"I need you," she blurted out, hearing Lacey in her words if not her tone of voice and changing tack. "I want this to work."

He was looking at her with disbelief in his eyes, but he didn't argue. Instead, he raised a hand from her waist and brushed it across her neck, leaning into the crook of her neck when she turned into his hand.

"I want it to work, too," he admitted in a soft whisper. "More than anything. I'm afraid of what happens if it doesn't though."

She knew what he was afraid of - he was afraid she'd hate him, afraid she'd leave with the baby and he'd be alone - she just didn't know how to reassure him that she wouldn't do that. Even if she did leave him, she wasn't going to take the child with her. She wanted her daughter to have a father - to have a family - for as long as could be arranged.

"Rumple," she murmured as his lips skimmed across her neck. "Look at me."

He pulled away, and she placed her palm on his cheek to keep him facing her.

"I'm not taking her away," she promised him. "She's ours, not just mine. No matter what happens, you won't lose her, I promise."

His eyes darting between her face and her belly confirmed that she'd correctly guessed the source of his anxiety. Then all of a sudden he was kissing her again, his arms snaking around her waist as she pulled him down so that his lips met hers.

She wasn't sure which of them made the first move, but the next thing she knew they were next to that damn cot. Lacey had a lot of good memories about it, but it was time for Belle to make her own. They didn't quite collapse - he was far too aware of her belly for that - but she had her arms around his neck and was pulling him down over top of her and sliding off his jacke t to get at the shirt underneath. This was what she'd been missing, she decided. His touch and his lips, his acceptance that she could want him. They'd never had that, though, not really.

Rumplestiltskin was hovering over her, seemingly unsure of what to do. She couldn't really blame him for that, at least, she didn't know what she would like either.

The only thing Belle could think to do in that moment was touch him, and hope he would do the same. She brought her hands up to his chest and started working open the buttons on his shirt, feeling nothing but relief when he in turn gingerly placed his hand on her thigh and skimmed up under her dress, hovered slightly over her belly, and then moved on to her swollen breasts.

Whoever Dr. Whale was now, he had assured Lacey she wasn't really lactating yet but that her breasts would just be like that until the baby came. Belle wasn't entirely sure how she felt about that, but apparently Rumple didn't mind them, dragging fingertips across the swell of her breasts before slipping his hand into her bra to cup one of them gently.

Belle had been warned that there would be an increase in sensitivity during pregnancy, but she hadn't been prepared for the blinding shock of pleasure that shot through her the moment he touched her. Her hand shot to his wrist to hold him in place for a second, and when she finally recovered there was a look on his face somewhere between shock and terror.

"Sorry," she managed to gasp out. "Pregnancy. I hadn't realized I'd be so sensitive."

"Oh," he said, relief flooding his voice. "In a good way?"

"Yeah," she replied. "Very good. Just...be gentle."

He nodded, and she released his wrist, bringing her hands to his chest to work his shirt off of him as he continued teasing her with his fingers. She was near to frantic now, and needed him closer - _all_ of him.

"Take your shirt off?" she asked, finding her fingers far too shaky to manage the buttons. He nodded, bringing his hands up and finding them just as unsteady as hers.

Belle bit out a groan of frustration before reaching up and _ripping_. The buttons went scattering around, and he was looking at her with a completely awestruck look on his face, and that was all she needed to see.

It took him no time at all to realize she was serious about all of this, pulling her dress over her head completely and tossing it aside. Between them, somehow they were able to remove his trousers and her bra and panties and then he was hovering over her, still tentative after all this time.

"Are you sure?" he asked, reaching down to stroke her between her legs. "We don't have to do this. I can…"

Belle whimpered as his fingers found a place inside of her that had always driven Lacey wild, and she knew exactly what he meant. He would get her off, offer her whatever pleasure she wanted, and never go any further than that. But that's not what she wanted. She was desperate for more than a release, she was desperate for him - for Rumplestiltskin and all his flaws and fears, and his inability to ever understand how she might want him.

"I want you," she replied. "I want this. Please."

He nodded, ducking his head to rest against her neck as she felt him line himself up with her entrance, felt the hardness of him brushing against her inner thighs as he thrust once into her and he felt so good she could have cried, except that would probably scare him. Instead, she twined her legs behind his knees and whimpered as he thrust in and out of her. He was glorious, and she loved him.

She loved the way he looked at her like he were afraid this was all a hallucination, she loved the way his fingers moved down between her legs to stoke her pleasure higher and higher as his mouth lay kisses across her chest and neck. She loved the way that he was whispering little affirmations to her as she came closer and closer to orgasm, the words she couldn't make out except for her name and things ike 'beautiful' and 'my love' and 'my dearest.' She loved the way he was careful of her abdomen, keeping his weight carefully off of her as she thrashed and cried out in ecstasy, and the way that he rolled carefully to the side after his final thrusts and her own climax finally sent him over the edge. She loved the way he held her close under a blanket that he may have called up magically as she dozed in his arms.

Things weren't perfect between them by any means, but Belle took comfort from the fact that they were closer than they had ever been before.


	8. Mockingbird Won't Sing

_Storybrooke, during the curse_

Lacey couldn't remember ever being happy with Brad; to be honest, she could barely remember when she liked him. It must have been good in the beginning or else she'd never have moved in, but it hadn't taken long for them to start fighting. Lacey knew she had a bad temper and she knew she didn't let things go easily. That's what had started it all, really - she couldn't ever let things go.

They'd been fighting over some stupid shit - she'd wanted to go out and he wanted her to stay home and then he slammed her against a wall and she saw stars for a second. She'd never been hit before, and she wasn't sure what to say or do afterward. They stared at each other for a few minutes that felt like an hour and then he stormed out and she took a shower and tried to figure out what the hell had just happened. It didn't leave any bruises or anything, and he came back and apologized and they talked it out and she was pretty sure that was going to be the end of it.

It wasn't the end of it, though. She wasn't stupid and she'd learned all the signs of when it was time to leave a bad relationship in school just like everyone else. After he'd done it a few more times she knew it was going to keep happening, but she also knew she was hard to live with. And anyway, what the hell was she going to do? Go back to her dad's house? Everyone knew she could barely hold down a job as it was, and moving back home would just prove once again that 'Racy Lacey' needed to be taken care of because she couldn't do it herself. Asking for help would just be admitting she'd been an idiot, and a victim, and that she'd made a mistake.

She didn't want to be a victim or a failure, and everyone knew that girls like her were nothing but trouble anyway.

 _Storybrooke, 2011_

Rumplestiltskin didn't remember the last time he'd had a full night of sleep, if indeed he'd ever had one. When he was a boy, hunger and fear had kept him awake, and as an adult there had always been too much work to do. Taking on the dark curse had at least rid him of the exhaustion of not sleeping, and since he'd brought magic to this new land it had taken over for him again. So while Belle dozed, he was free to watch her without fear of discovery. She was completely naked in her bed, having dragged him upstairs for a second round as soon as he was physically able. Gold and Lacey had been in this bed a thousand times before, but he'd never seen Belle here and he couldn't keep his eyes off of her.

He had no idea what any of this meant. She said she forgave him, and the sex heavily implied some sort of romantic entanglement, but she was also _definitely_ hormonal. He didn't know what she wanted from him anymore-if he ever _had_ known what she wanted. He'd lived three hundred years; one would think that he'd have some idea of what women wanted, and yet he remained completely vexed by them. Belle herself had always been particularly confusing: she'd always been too brave for her own good and too damn determined to love him for her own safety. The idea of having both Belle _and_ his son had never seemed to be more than a dream - Rumplestiltskin was a man far too used to compromises and an imperfect happiness, and being so close to having everything he'd ever wanted...the possibility itself was impossible, and yet here he was and damn him, he had _hope_.

As he watched her, Belle began to twitch a little in her sleep and make little whimpering noises. He recognized the signs of a nightmare easily from a lifetime of experience and before he could even think twice about it, he was shaking her awake. She sat up with a yelp and flinched away from his hands so hard she almost went tumbling off the side of the bed. He jerked away from her on instinct, but he'd scarcely had time to register the horrible sting of rejection when she looked at him with terribly wide eyes and threw herself into him hard, holding him tight and burying her face in his chest.

"Belle?" he asked, trying to wrap his mind around what had just happened when he realized her shoulders shaking with sobs. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?"

"I had a terrible dream," she gasped, clinging tighter to him somehow as her tears soaked into his skin. He didn't know what else to do besides hold her while she wept and let his mind boggle at the fact that she'd sought _him_ out for comfort when she was afraid.

They laid there for a few moments until she finally calmed down and relaxed into his embrace.

"I'm sorry for reacting like that," she said. "I knew it was a dream, it just felt so real while it was happening."

"Do you want to tell me about it?" he asked, almost afraid of her answer. What could she possibly say that wouldn't be a result of his betrayal?

She was quiet for a long time, and he thought perhaps she hadn't heard him or just didn't want to, but at last she spoke.

"I was married to Guy of Gisbourne," she said and he felt her arms tighten around him for a moment before releasing a little. "Like the Queen had planned back in the old world. And pregnant, and…" she hiccuped a little and couldn't finish, so he just held her closer and whispered nonsense into her hair.

He'd been right, it had been his fault. She'd only ever been in that position because of him, and he wasn't sure how to even begin to make it up to her or if he even ever could.

"I'm sorry," he said at last. "I should have killed him slower."

She laughed bitterly at that and rolled away enough to look him in the eye.

"No," she said slowly. "You shouldn't have. I'm glad he's not a threat anymore, but I don't want you to darken your soul over him."

"My soul is plenty dark," he replied. "Another twenty minutes here or there wasn't going to make any difference on that score."

She flinched and he instantly regretted saying it. He was supposed to be reassuring her, not scaring her and it was on the tip of his tongue to apologize when she spoke again.

"What did you do to him?" she asked at last.

"You don't want to know," he replied, because she didn't. And more than that, he didn't want to tell her. He didn't want her to look at him and see destruction and murder.

She was about to protest, but he drew her close again and held her against his chest.

"I did what I could to protect both of you," he said at last, because it was the only truth he had left. "I did the only thing I could do."

Belle paused, but she eventually nodded and settled into his embrace again.

"I hate myself for feeling reassured by that," she replied. "But promise me you won't do it again. No matter what, no more killing and no more hurting people."

"I can't," he said simply. "I've been the Dark One for too long and I have far too many enemies. As long as people know who I am, I can't promise that I'll never need to kill someone again."

"Then no more torture," she said. "No more cruelty, and no more hurting people for trivial things. Not like with Robin...with the thief, I mean. No more killing people for revenge, only if they're an actual threat."

He didn't want to promise that. For one thing, he wasn't sure how successful he'd be at keeping it. There was a darkness in him that he didn't think she'd really understand even if he tried to explain it. She'd _always_ seen the best in him, even when he hadn't given her a reason to, and he didn't want to let her down and give her a reason to grow to doubt him.

"Okay," he said finally, because what else could he say? There was only right answer, no matter how much he doubted his ability to do what she'd asked. "I promise, no more killing unless there's no other choice."

She smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

"Thank you," she said, sitting up and stretching. "We should probably get out of bed, though. I'm hungry."

He nodded dumbly, trying hard not to stare at her. She'd let the blankets fall away from her chest when she sat up and his eyes were riveted to her curves. Belle had always been beautiful, but she was radiant now. There was a roundness to her pregnant body that he found fascinating, probably because he'd never really seen it before. She was the first pregnant woman he'd ever spent any significant amount of time with, but he couldn't imagine any pregnant woman had ever been that beautiful standing next to a bed and digging through a dresser looking for panties.

"Ow!" she exclaimed suddenly, and even though he couldn't see any particular cause of her distress, he was instantly on high alert.

"What's wrong?" he asked, sitting up quickly.

"The baby kicked me," she muttered, rubbing her belly. "She's been getting a lot more active lately."

"Oh," he replied, as his eyes fixed on her abdomen. His child was kicking - she was alive and moving and _kicking_.

He gradually became aware that Belle was watching him as he watched her and he looked away.

"Sorry," he said.

"Do you want to feel?" she asked him, coming closer. "You've never really felt her before, have you?"

He shook his head, feeling his throat go completely dry at the offer. He'd only really touched her belly a handful of times and never when the baby was moving. With Lacey he'd intentionally avoided any and all contact with the idea of the child, and with Belle he simply hadn't been comfortable asking for permission to touch her there. It had been an intimacy he'd denied himself out of respect for her, yet here she was stark naked and standing in front of him offering.

"Do you mind?" he finally managed to say, looking into her face for the first time during the conversation.

"Of course not," she said, walking over and taking his hand to place it carefully over her lower belly where his daughter was.

He'd seen wonderful things in his life and performed magic that most could only dream of, but he'd never before been so _awestruck_ as he was at that moment, with his little girl fluttering under his fingers. He looked back up at Belle to be sure she was still comfortable, but she was smiling down at him and his focus was quickly drawn back to his child. His daughter was real and he could feel her.

"Hello little one," he whispered, wondering if she could hear him in there. She kicked again in what he hoped was a reply, so he continued. "I'm your papa," he said, fighting back tears of joy. "I know I haven't been here for you so far, but I promise I will be from now on."

Belle reached a hand up and began stroking his hair, and he lost all control of his tears and pressed a kiss to her belly. This was a family now, and the only piece missing was his son who he - who _they_ \- would find. Baelfire was in this world, and for a brief moment he knew that this hadn't all been in vain. They would find a way out of town, and he could make amends with his son and never leave his daughter's side. This could be perfect.


	9. The Unexpected

_The Enchanted Forest, nine days pre-curse_

Robin and his men saw her as far as the borders of King Midas' kingdom, but once they reached the first major population center, Belle was left to her own devices. Going through the familiar city brought back memories of her girlhood and of happy times spent at court with her friends. She'd loved her time in this part of the kingdom, and being back cheered her heart.

Getting into the castle had proven to be slightly more challenging than Belle had anticipated. In years past, she had been a lady travelling in a carriage with her father's crest and a full complement of liveried servants. She had belonged in the castle, and it had been a simple matter to arrive at the portico and be shown into the throne room. Dressed as a peasant and dirty from the road was a whole other situation. The guards wouldn't even let her through the front door, so she'd had to take a room at an inn and decide on her next course of action.

Her first thought was that she could wait until Abigail came out shopping and approach her in the market, but she thought the better of it. While she'd spoken to a good many peasants in her life, the ones she met while shopping had almost entirely been shopkeepers. There were guards to keep the masses at bay and Abigail would be no different in that respect.

She got her first little bit of luck within a week. The start of a new month meant that the king held court, but King Midas was away. The kingdom had fallen in line with Princess Snow White and her war against Queen Regina, and the king had taken the army to join with the alliance's larger force. If her father was gone, that just left Princess Abigail to hear the petitions. The hard part was actually getting on the list of people allowed to petition the crown. She was one of the last few people let into the line of people that day, and it was far past noon when she finally got into the throne room. She was so overwhelmed by nerves and nostalgia that she almost missed when it was her turn. Her stomach was suddenly twisting with nerves as she stepped forward with her request.

"What can the Crown do for you?" Abigail asked, barely looking at her as she knelt properly before the throne.

"I ask for sanctuary, Your Highness," Belle said, watching for the moment when Abigail finally turned her eyes on her. "I've been forced to flee my father's home, and I would like to throw myself on your mercy."

"Belle?" Abigail said in a slightly high pitched voice, coming down from the throne and approaching with her eyes wide in shock. "My gods, what are you _doing_ here?"

Belle stood and Abigail immediately swept her into an embrace. Belle felt embarrassingly happy at the contact – she'd left home _so_ long ago and it had been ages since somebody had touched her like this. Even while she was staying with the Merry Men, the only one who'd dared to hug her had been little Roland. It was so comforting just to have someone's arms around her that she almost broke down into tears.

"I had to run away," Belle said at last. "My father was trying to force me to marry someone terrible. Can I stay?"

"Oh goodness, of course you can," Abigail replied. "You have to tell me everything, come on."

Abigail took Belle by the arm and called to a man who had been standing nearby to hear the rest of the petitions for her and the two of them made their way into the corridors of the castle. Belle had done it; she was finally safe.

 _Storybrooke, 2011_

Rumple moved back into the bedroom that night. He'd tried to go back to the guest room, but Belle was sick of playing coy and she was tired of sleeping alone. She'd knocked on his door not long after he had left for bed, and he was in pajamas when he opened it.

"Come on," she said, taking his hand and pulling him into the hallway.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," she replied. "Come to bed."

His mouth twisted in confusion, but she wasn't going to indulge his doubt tonight.

"There's plenty of room in that bed," she continued. "I _want_ you to stay with me."

His shoulders sagged and she hadn't even realized he'd been so tense until she saw him relax in front of her. It only took another tug of her hand before he'd followed her into the master bedroom, and after that first night he seemed to accept that she really wanted him there. They didn't cuddle or anything quite so intimate - despite their newly reawakened sexual relationship things were still a little strange between them - but it was just nice to have him there at night. It was warm and domestic, and so close to being something _real_ that it was easy to forget that their relationship had been so severely damaged.

She wondered sometimes if the captivity and constant threats to her safety and the pregnancy had traumatized her more than she thought it had. She was starting to become uneasy being alone, and while she didn't think Rumple minded that she would stay in the house with him all day and follow him into town if he had to go, she missed her independence – she'd followed him to provide a potion to let Henry Mills communicate with someone in the Enchanted Forest and gone with him when they put a sleeping curse on Prince David. Rumple was so good about providing for all her needs, but she missed the part of herself that had traipsed across the country in pursuit of her own happiness and not the terrified woman who was scared to leave the house anymore.

Rumple seemed to be noticing something was wrong, and that bothered Belle more than it should. He was watching her when he thought she wasn't looking, and every time she asked him to do something she should be doing herself she could feel his uneasiness. She wasn't sure if he was relieved or scared, but he never asked her about it. Instead, he traipsed all over Storybrooke with her because she would suddenly _need_ a specific type of ice cream or a particular pasta, or because the nursery needed more blankets or just because she couldn't fit her old maternity clothes anymore.

They'd gone to the diner for her daily cheeseburger, and Granny Lucas had just dropped them off at the table when the door swung open and Regina stormed in.

"Gold, we need to talk," Regina said as she approached the table and leaned over it.

"Do we?" Rumple replied, barely looking at her.

"Folks, I think we may need to close early," Granny said loud enough for the entire room to hear her. "Everybody out!"

"No it's okay," Regina said to the older woman. "We're civil."

"Yeah, we're not," Rumple replied. "Belle, you remember the woman who tricked your father into thinking I cursed you?"

Belle looked back and forth between the two of them and she wasn't really sure what to do. Regina clearly wasn't going anywhere, but Belle didn't want to leave Rumple in her presence ether.

"I should probably just…" she let her voice trailed off as she realized she didn't have a plan for this.

"No, no, please stay where you are," Rumple said to her. "Whatever she has to say won't be secret from you; whatever she wants, she won't get."

"I'm actually coming about the one thing that might unite us," Regina said to him.

"And what on earth could that be?" he replied.

"Cora." Regina said it like a curse word. "She's coming from our land. I need your help to stop her."

"But she's dead," Rumple said darkly. "You told me you saw the body."

"Apparently you taught her well," Regina said. "She's not; she's on her way and I don't think I need to remind you how unpleasant that would be for most of us."

"For you," he said. "I can handle Cora."

"That's not how she tells the story," Regina replied.

"I won in the end."

"Maybe," Regina said leaning closer to him and shooting a glance towards Belle. "But there's a big difference this time. This time, you have someone you care about. This time, you have a weakness."

"I'm sorry," Belle interrupted. "Who is this woman?"

"Someone you'll never meet," Rumple replied before turning back to Regina. "So you say she's coming. Where is she now?"

"With them."

"Them?" he said. "You mean Snow White and the Savior."

"She's going to try to make her way here _with_ them," Regina said. "And I'm not going to let her get anywhere near Henry."

Rumplestiltskin looked at Belle for a long time, and she wasn't sure what to say or do. The news of Cora coming to Storybrooke had set him far too on edge. She was uneasy about the whole thing, but he clearly didn't want to discuss this in front of Regina, and while she could respect that, without more context she couldn't help him decide what to do.

"All right," he said at last, facing Regina again. "I'll help you keep her from coming here."

The rest of their meal was largely silent, as was the drive home. Belle had so many thoughts running through her head, and she couldn't quite shake the feeling that he was hiding something from her.

"Who's Cora?" Belle asked Rumple once they were safely inside the house. He froze in the foyer and she could tell he didn't want to talk about it, but she wasn't going to let him get away with keeping this secret. "Who is she?" Belle asked again, more forcefully. "Is she a threat?"

"Regina's mother," he said. "She's Regina's mother."

"And?"

Rumple turned to face her slowly, and Belle locked eyes with him, refusing to give ground until he had answered her question truthfully. There was no way that was the end of that story, and she was not about to stand there and let him treat her like a child who had to be protected from the truth. At last, he looked away and let his shoulders sag.

"She's also my former apprentice," he said to the coat rack to her right. "And my former lover."

Belle felt her face flush with some emotion she couldn't immediately name, but found incredibly unpleasant. She wasn't sure what answer she had expected given his caginess around the idea of telling her, but something about her didn't like knowing. She liked that he'd told her, but didn't like thinking about him with this other woman. It was silly, because he'd been _married_ before and had a son and she had known all of that, and she certainly didn't expect him to have been totally chaste before she was even born. But knowing something in an abstract sense and knowing the name of the last woman he slept with were two entirely different things.

"I'm assuming there's no question of Regina's paternity?" she said at last, crossing her arms over her chest. It was a low blow, but the vaguely stricken look on his face made her feel a little bit better in a petty sort of way.

"Of course not," he said. "It was over _long_ before Regina came along, trust me."

She should trust him – she didn't have much choice _but_ to trust him unless she wanted to move out – but it felt so much better not to right now.

"So were you teaching her before or after you slept together?"

He looked miserable, and she hated herself for being pleased by that. This was silly, but she was so irrationally angry about it and she didn't know why she was so...so _jealous_ about this other woman.

"Does it really matter?" he asked her finally. "It was a mistake from beginning to end."

"So she dumped you?"

"Why are you so upset?" he asked. "It was a long time ago! I haven't even seen her since Regina pushed her through a mirror to Wonderland."

Belle froze for a second and stared at him, trying to figure out if he was joking or not. Sometimes, talking to Rumplestiltskin was a little like trying to speak a second language where she'd be going along fine with the flow of the conversation until he'd drop some word or phrase she'd never heard before and it took her a moment to get her train of thought back.

"I'm not upset," she replied. "I just think I should know how many of your ex-lovers are going to be showing up and whether or not they're a threat to the baby!"

He opened his mouth to say something, but then he stopped and pulled back. His eyes went wide and he almost smiled for a second, but then he pursed his lips and looked at her intently.

"Are you jealous?" he asked her cautiously, and she felt all the blood rush to her head.

"No!" she snapped. "Why would I be jealous? I don't care who or what you did before. It's none of my business, and it's not like we're dating just because we're sleeping together."

She brushed past him to the rest of the house, hoping he'd let it go but she could hear him following her and she couldn't really move a lot faster than him in her condition.

"Belle, wait," he called from behind her, grabbing her elbow and stopping her as she tried to hurry up the stairs. She spun around to face him and tried to summon whatever righteous anger she could manage, but it was rapidly dissolving into embarrassment in the face of him. "It means nothing," he said earnestly and she could see tears starting to form in his eyes. " _Cora_ means nothing and she never did. It was a handful of weeks in three hundred years of terrible decisions. You mean _everything_ – you were always special. Always."

She could feel herself starting to tear up as well, and she didn't _want_ to be angry at him. She just felt so stupid, and it was so easy to let him pull her into an embrace at the foot of the stairs. She'd overreacted, and she knew it.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled into his chest without looking at him. "I was being awful."

"It's okay, sweetheart," he whispered into her hair. "You know it's not just sleeping together though, don't you? I love you so much, Belle. I've never loved another woman the way I love you."

"I know," she admitted. "I was just upset. I shouldn't have said it."

She snuggled into him and tucked her head under his chin. It was warm, and safe there, and she didn't want him to ever let her go.


	10. In Too Deep

_Storybrooke, 2002_

Lacey liked rent day. Gold always took her with him if she wanted to go, and there was something incredibly satisfying about putting on something expensive and traipsing about town while he took money from people who used to look down on her. Now that she was with him, nobody dared to try anything with her.

She wasn't sure what it said about her, but something about watching people cower in fear of him got her going. He was powerful and merciless and she could have him do whatever she wanted. It was a heady little power trip to traipse up and down the street in her nice shoes with her boyfriend. The one thing she skipped was usually her dad's shop. It was _way_ too awkward for everyone when she was there, so she leaned up against the side of the building and waited while Gold went in. She liked to watch people coming and going sometimes and wonder what they were doing. Her life was so different now than it had been; sometimes she liked to remember it a little bit.

Of course, that was when Regina Mills decided to wander by with her toddler in tow. Lacey rolled her eyes preemptively as the mayor spotted her and made a beeline over. Fucking perfect.

"Aren't there city ordinances against loitering?" the mayor said pointedly. "Or at the very least solicitation?"

Lacey narrowed her eyes at the woman, sizing her up before attacking back. Of course, there was really only one thing Lacey had that she thought Regina might envy: a man. Not that she thought Regina was particularly interested in Gold, but Lacey was sure the mayor was lonely or else she never would have adopted the kid.

"Why?" Lacey replied with a careful nonchalance and a mean smirk. "Looking for pointers on how to attract a guy? Or are you interested? Because unfortunately I do have _some_ standards these days."

Regina flushed bright red and sputtered, and Lacey half expected her to give a shrill _I never!_ before storming off, but instead the mayor stepped forward, into Lacey's personal space, and leaned over her as menacingly as possible with a toddler on her hip - which was still pretty menacing. Lacey had to brace herself not to pull back in spite of the fact that she was sure Regina wouldn't physically attack her in public with a baby.

"You listen to me, you little bitch," Regina hissed. "You may parade up and down these streets like you own the place, but don't mistake yourself for important. _I_ am the queen here – you're _nothing_ to me. Gold may have some fascination with you, but you're a plaything in the end. Power – real power – isn't in men, it's the ability to take and to destroy whatever is in your way. So you enjoy your little affair while it lasts and when it's over just remember that when it all comes crashing down around you that, man or no man, I will _always_ have the power here."

Lacey was so angry that she couldn't breathe. She'd never liked Regina Mills anyway, but she didn't have a retort for that. She wished Gold was here, because he would have had some cutting remark for the mayor, but Lacey had nothing to say. Her cheeks were burning red, and she couldn't even slap her because of the baby in her arms.

"You're really overestimating how much I think of you," Lacey said at last, leaning back against the wall of the flower shop and holding Regina's glare. "When I finally get the hell out of this little shit hole of a town you're so proud to lord over, I doubt I'll remember you at all. Enjoy the rest of your lonely life, Regina. Maybe if you'd get laid once in awhile you wouldn't be such a heinous bitch."

"Well, that's where you're wrong," Regina replied. "But maybe you should ask the sheriff about that."

She said the last in a taunting little sing-song that meant she'd scored a blow, but now Lacey had ammo and she meant to use it.

"You're taking your toddler with you on a date?" Lacey asked her, looking from Regina to Henry and then back out into the crowd because Regina was officially not worth her attention anymore. "Sounds hot. Tell Graham he's a lucky man."

Regina growled something, but Lacey had no desire to engage with her again. She'd scored her point, and anything else would just be losing ground. Sure enough, Regina stalked off down the street angrily, though she only got about half a block before she crossed the street because she'd found someone else to scream at. Whatever - that wasn't Lacey's problem to deal with.

She stood back up when the door to the flower shop opened and Gold walked out, tucking some money into his pocket and walking over to her. Whatever Regina wanted to say, Lacey could tell she'd hit a nerve with her and she wasn't going to stop needling it. She wasn't going to sit back and let someone walk all over her while she could do anything about it. Besides, Regina Mills deserved whatever misery could be brought to her, that fucking bitch.

Lacey made a show of throwing herself at Gold as soon as he was within reach, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a hard kiss. He was barely startled, and soon enough she was pinned against the wall of her father's shop. She hoped Regina saw – she hoped _everybody_ saw. Fuck the mayor for ruining her good mood, and fuck her for making this all feel cheap.

Gold didn't push her for why her mood was so weird, which was good. Lacey didn't want to have to admit what had happened or how Regina had pushed all her buttons, or even that she did worry sometimes about what would happen if everything went tits up for her. She didn't have a safety net – she had a box of expensive jewelry she could pawn.

The mayor's house was on Mifflin street, a few blocks away from the center of downtown (absolutely nothing was too far away from town in Storybrooke, though) and when they walked past it, Lacey felt a particularly naughty imp on her shoulder pushing her into mischief. The mayor's car was gone, and if Regina wasn't completely lying through her teeth then there was no reason to think she'd be back any time soon. So all Lacey had to do was convince Gold it was a good idea, and somehow she didn't think that would be much of a problem.

"You know what would be really sexy?" she asked, pressing her breasts into his arm provocatively as they walked.

"What?"

"You wanna have sex someplace a little dangerous?"

He stopped walking and looked at her like he was trying to decide if she was serious, so she just smiled and nodded towards the mayor's house.

"You're crazy," he replied as soon as he caught her meaning.

"Oh come on, Gold," she said, licking her lips and stroking her fingers across the back of his neck. "I know where she keeps the spare key and she won't be back for hours. It'll be fun."

"It'll be illegal."

"That's what makes it fun," she replied coyly, turning and walking slowly towards the front door. She was halfway up the drive before she glanced over her shoulder and winked at him. "Come on," she continued. "You're not afraid of Regina Mills, are you?"

She turned back towards the house and by the time she was on the porch she heard the familiar tapping sound of his cane behind her. It was the work of a few seconds to locate the spare key in its hiding place in one of the planters (Regina never had moved it after Lacey quit being her maid) and to get the door unlocked before she returned it to its rightful home. They didn't turn the lights on or speak, but Lacey led him quietly to the office. There were some papers on the desk, and Lacey didn't bother moving them before hopping up onto it and spreading her legs for him to step in between them.

Let Regina think what she wanted about Lacey. The difference between them was that Regina was satisfied with what she had and Lacey wanted more. She wanted bigger things and better places, and she wouldn't stop fighting until she had it. For right now, though, she had enough – she had Gold and he would do whatever she wanted, even if what she wanted was to have sex on this desk and leave her panties in a drawer, and that was good enough. Lacey wasn't one to be trifled with, and she would be damned if she ever let anyone look down on her again.

 _Storybrooke, 2011_

Belle was jealous of his past with Cora. Rumplestiltskin wasn't sure how or why that could possibly have happened, but somehow she was. Of course, he had no idea what to do about that, or even if he _should_ do anything. She was _jealous_. She was upset by the idea of his ex showing up. There was no way to phrase this that wasn't unbelievable and a little bit flattering. It was a good sign, though, wasn't it? It had to be.

It wasn't really a good time for Cora to appear (not that there was ever a good time to run into a seriously unhinged ex-lover). His relationship with Belle was in a delicate place, and beyond that, the baby was coming in less than two months. They both wanted baby Colette born out in the world somewhere and not in Storybrooke, and Bae was so close. Ideally, he wanted to make amends with Bae before the baby arrived – that would be perfect, absolutely perfect. But achieving that required him to find a way to get them both across the town line and there was no way he could do that before Cora arrived.

He had some ideas of how to keep Cora out of the town, but he didn't think that Belle would approve of demolishing the town well and trapping Emma and Snow White in the Enchanted Forest forever. No matter what he'd told Regina about being able to defeat her mother, Rumplestiltskin still didn't want to have to face her at all. He knew he could defeat her, but he didn't know what kind of carnage she might cause before he could manage that. If there was one thing he knew about Cora, it was that she wouldn't let anything stand in her way of getting what she wanted - and he didn't know what she wanted.

If Belle wouldn't understand what he had to do (and he wasn't sure she would), then somehow he was going to have to do it without her knowledge, which meant that he was going to have to find something to distract her with. Fortunately, there was at least one thing he knew could usually distract her.

She was in the nursery when he found her, sitting in the rocking chair and looking out the window dreamily. There was a little stuffed bear in her lap and she looked so content that he almost forgot what he'd come for in his desire to just watch her. She looked up after a few seconds and smiled at him sweetly.

"I got you something," he said. "For the baby."

"Yeah?"

"It's downstairs," he said, walking forward and offering her a hand getting out of the rocking chair. She could still get up and down by herself, but he could tell it was getting harder, and he liked taking care of her.

Belle followed him down to the living room where he'd had the deliveryman leave the box of books. It was mostly children's books for the baby, but there were a few that he'd thought she'd enjoy for herself and that he knew Lacey hadn't read. For some reason, it was important to Belle to have the nursery ready for the baby whether she'd be born there or not, and he wanted her to have whatever she wanted. Besides, it did feel nice to have a place for their daughter.

"Oh, Rumple!" she exclaimed happily, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he replied, trying not to feel so satisfied as she started looking through the books. He liked making her happy, even if it was a cold-blooded ploy to get her to stay home without asking any questions.

"Where did you get these?" she asked. "The bookstore has the worst selection I've ever seen."

"I have my ways," he replied, because _I stole them from the library_ wasn't going to impress her too much. "Do you mind if I step out for a bit? I'm supposed to go meet with Regina to deal with her mother, and I don't want you being around her."

"Yeah, that's fine," Belle replied with a distracted smile. "I'll stay here."

She'd be safe, and that was all he could hope for anymore.


	11. Cricket on the Hearth

Rumplestiltskin felt relief as soon as he came in from the cold. The house was warm from the fire, but also from the overwhelming amount of love he found inside of it. Belle was stoking the fire and she leapt to her feet and came to greet him as soon as she noticed he'd come through the door. She was so soft in his arms and so visibly happy to see him that he could hardly breathe for joy.

"Rumple!" Belle said his name with a smile and kissed his lips softly. "I'm so glad you're home."

"I'm glad I'm home, too," he replied, glancing towards the bassinet where little Colette slept. "Did everything go well today?"

"We were fine," she replied sweetly, pulling him by the hand to sit by the fire. "You worry too much. How was market?"

"It was long," he replied. "But we did well."

"Yeah?" she asked. "How did Bae do?"

The question triggered something in his memory, but he couldn't quite decide what it was, and anyway she was still waiting for his answer.

"He was great," Rumplestiltskin said. "He's just seeing to the horse and he'll be right in."

Bae rushed in at that moment and Rumplestiltskin felt a sudden shock of pride at how grown his son was. He looked just like he had the day he fell through the portal. How had they gotten him back? It wasn't worth focusing on, because they were all together and happy, just like he had always wished. Baelfire was so big, and he was so glad that he'd married Belle.

"Tell me all about it?" Belle asked sweetly, but all he really wanted to do was listen to her and hold their baby. As if on cue, the baby began to fuss and he was out of his seat and at her side so soon he couldn't believe it.

His little girl was so perfect. It was hard to believe she'd come from even some part of him, but so had Bae and he was just as perfect as she was. Rumplestiltskin brought the baby back to his seat by the fire and the rest of his family. Sometimes, it was impossible to believe that this was really his life.

Rumplestiltskin's eyes opened into the dark room, and it took him a moment to remember where he was: in Mr. Gold's house, in the Land Without Magic. He shot bolt upright in bed and he could feel Belle moving next to him. She groaned and sat up next to him, rubbing sleep from her eyes.

"What's wrong?" she asked. "Did you have a bad dream?"

All he could do was shake his head, because how could he tell her that he'd had such a good dream that waking up had been the nightmarish part? He jumped at the feel of her hand on his shoulder, then forced himself to relax. It was still dark outside, but he didn't think he'd be able to get back to sleep.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Belle asked again. "You can tell me."

"It's fine," he replied. "I just – it was a dream. Don't worry about it."

Even in the low light he could see her narrowing her eyes at him, and he was about to apologize for lying to her when she laid back down fast, crossed her arms over her chest, and rolled over. How could a woman _lie down_ angrily? He laid down next to her and rubbed her back softly with his hand. She tensed at first, but he slid his hand down to rub her lower back and after a few minutes she relaxed and rolled back over to face him.

"You're lucky my back always hurts," she said with a sigh "but I'm still annoyed."

"I'm not hiding anything," he replied. "There's just nothing to tell. It wasn't a bad dream, I was just startled when I woke up."

"Okay fine," she said pointedly. "Then tell me what happened at the well today."

He should have known that the books wouldn't distract her forever; he just hadn't been prepared to have this conversation so soon. Still, he'd rather talk about a lot of things before admitting to his dream.

"It went as well as I could have expected," he replied. "Emma Swan and Snow White are safe and the portal was closed in time to keep Cora out."

"So we're safe?"

"You're safe," he replied. "She's not going to be able to get to you – either of you."

Belle smiled and he felt her hand moving under the covers and then she touched his hand gently.

"I know we are," she said softly. "I'm sorry I doubted you."

He didn't know what to say to that, so he just rolled onto his back and pulled her closer and hoped that was enough for now. It was a big thing to have her trust, and he didn't know what to do with it now that he had it.

"Did you know the baby has fingerprints by three months?" Belle asked. They were in his shop so he could work, so she'd brought one of her pregnancy books and they'd moved a chair next to the front window so she could read and watch the town. It was nice. She was getting to know Rumplestiltskin the man, not the Dark One. He was a different person here – or maybe she was different? She felt so much older than she had been when she'd first gone away with him.

"I didn't know that," he replied. "It could come in handy if the baby commits any felonies, I suppose."

She smiled at that. He had a surprising sense of humor, and she'd always liked it in a strange way. It always startled her to learn new things about the baby – it was strange to think about how much of a person it was now. There was a whole person inside of her, and she had fingerprints! Little tiny fingerprints. It was amazing how _real_ this all was now, and more importantly how excited she was by it. Lacey may have been the one to conceive the baby, but she would be _Belle's_ daughter with _Belle's_ mother as her namesake.

She was still trying to wrap her head around all the ways her life was going to change when she heard the sound of the bell above the door ring and Emma Swan entered followed by her parents. They didn't seem to notice her right away as they charged forward to where Rumple was at the counter. There was a mask that seemed to fall across his face at the sight of the intruders, and she felt her heart skip a beat at the site of Mr. Gold reborn.

"Ah. Nothing warms the heart more than a family reunited," Rumplestiltskin said, stepping around the counter to face them. "You have your mother's chin, Ms. Swan."

"We know that you killed him," Emma Swan said, staring at Rumple as though she wasn't sure if she should pull her gun on him.  
"And your father's tact," Rumple replied evenly, eyeing the interlopers with a cool detachment.

"Someone's dead?" Belle asked, struggling to get out of her chair before everyone turned to look at her. She was only partially successful, and Prince David quickly moved forward to offer her a hand which she begrudgingly accepted. Pregnancy was hard.  
"Dr. Hopper," Emma said. "Dr. Hopper is dead."  
"Why on earth would you think I had anything to do with that?" Rumple asked them slightly incredulously.

"Because all the evidence points to Regina," Emma said quickly, which was more than Belle wanted to listen to.

"And she's not possibly capable of doing something so vile?"

"It's a frame job," Emma replied, turning to face Belle again.  
"It wouldn't be the first time you used someone to try to hurt her," Princess Snow said to Rumple.  
"Nice to see your memory's still intact, dearie," he said with an enigmatic smile. "But this time, I'm afraid I'm gonna have to disappoint you. It wasn't me."  
"Why should we believe you?" Prince David asked, and Rumple got a smug look on his face that sent a little thrill through Belle's body.  
"Because I can prove it," Rumple replied. "Ask the witness."  
"No one was there," Emma said as though it was painfully obvious, and perhaps it was but Belle knew Rumplestiltskin and she wouldn't dare discount him at this juncture even if she hadn't known where he'd been every single day this week.  
"Well, that's not strictly true, now is it?" Rumple asked them like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Where is his dog?"

"His...dog?" Snow White asked, looking between her husband and daughter as though she hoped one of them might know what was going on. Belle was confused herself, but she was curious to see where this was going, and more than that Emma Swan had rubbed her the wrong way by barging in full of accusations.

So, Belle stood by Rumple as Prince David went off to collect the dog while the two women waited in the pawn shop. Snow White seemed at least a little interested in the pregnancy, asking if Belle was having a boy or a girl and making small talk about names and swollen ankles, but Emma Swan just looked uncomfortable until her father returned with the dalmatian on his leash. To Belle's surprise, Rumple lit up when he saw the dog, crouching down to pet Pongo in greeting.

"Hey, boy," he said affectionately, scratching the dog behind his ear. "Good boy. Good boy. Good boy."  
"I didn't know you were such a dog person," Belle said, trying to keep down a smile at the sight of him. She'd never owned a dog – at least not as a pet – and she hadn't really wanted to before. Something about a dog and a baby felt right, though. Like being a real family and they were so close to that.

"Well," he replied. "A long time ago, in another life, I got to know a sheepdog or two."

It was probably her hormones, but Belle was suddenly envisioning life in the pink house with Rumplestiltskin, Baelfire, baby Colette, and a dog. Since it was Belle's fantasy, her father was there as well and he'd accepted that this was her life now. It was a lovely little fantasy - and maybe someday she'd see it realized.

"That's fascinating," Emma said. "But unless you speak dog, how is Pongo gonna tell us anything?"  
"Through magic, of course." Rumple had that smugness back in his voice, and Belle felt that familiar little flutter again at the sound of it. "It won't allow us to communicate, but it will allow us to extract his memories."  
"Extract?" Prince David asked warily.  
"You don't have to worry," Rumple replied. "He won't feel a thing."  
"Why should we trust you?" Emma said. "Couldn't you just as easily use magic to fool us?"  
"Because I'm not going to be the one using magic – you are."

"Me? How?"

Emma seemed somewhere between suspicious and confused as Rumple walked towards a cabinet and opened one of the doors.

"You have it within you. Told me so yourself," he said to Emma before turning to her mother. "You witnessed it, didn't you?"  
Princess Snow didn't respond, instead she looked to her daughter.

"Emma," she said. "You don't have to do this."  
"If it tells us something about Archie's death, so be it," Emma replied. Rumple took this as implicit permission to continue, and Belle watched as he pulled something out of the cabinet and showed it to Emma.

"Now," he said in a business-like manner. "Do you know what this is?"  
"A dreamcatcher."  
"Well, it's capable of catching so much more."

He showed Emma how to hold it above the dog's head, and suddenly a rippling gold that Belle recognized as magic spread out from the blonde's finger tips and began shining brightly.

"What is that?" Belle asked,  
"Memories," Rumple said. "Now Ms. Swan, you show us how."  
"How?" Emma Swan asked. "It's just a jumble."  
"Will it," he said. "Will it, and we shall all see."

"I can't," Emma protested.  
"Yes, you can."

Belle watched quietly as Emma seemed to focus harder and slowly the golden glow began to take shape and form an image of Archie Hopper.

"Emma," Prince David said softly. "You're doing it."

The images continued to move and Archie looked up just in time to see Regina appear and then Belle couldn't bear to look anymore, burying her face in Rumple's shoulder and waiting.  
"Regina." Emma said the name grimly, and her mother exclaimed _no!_ just in time to let Belle know she'd missed the worst of it, and she turned her face back to see the other three looking stone faced.  
"You were right all along," Emma said to her father, who didn't seem particularly happy at being proven right.  
"I'm sorry, Emma," he said at last.

They didn't stay after that, and she was so thankful to have them gone. The entire encounter left her shaken and unnerved, and she just wanted to be out of this town as soon as possible.

Rumple took her home not long after they left, but Belle couldn't quite overcome the feeling that something was wrong, and by the time they were in the driveway she couldn't contain her suspicions anymore.

"Rumple?" she said his name as soon as the keys were out of the ignition, he hadn't even taken off his seatbelt yet but he looked at her as soon as se spoke. "You're _sure_ it was Regina?"

He blinked at her in a painfully familiar manner – his eyes were no longer the too-large lizard eyes that she'd fallen in love with but his mannerisms remained the same nonetheless.

"Of course I am," he said finally. "Who else could it be?"

She didn't have an answer for that, just a hint of a fear that she was probably imagining, so she didn't respond, she just shrugged and let herself out of the car. It had been Regina, she'd seen the dreamcatcher with her own two eyes.


End file.
